As promised, here is chapter one of A Glimmer of Gold’s Christmas story. We’ve taken a bit of license with the source material and fashioned a story that begins with some hijinks, continues with misunderstanding and frustration, and concludes with a Christmas miracle, of sorts:

Chapter 1

“If you had made the proper choice, I would not be in this position,” Mrs. Bennet said, pausing with her fork in the air to glare at her second eldest daughter. “And I could spend my time planning this year’s Christmas observance instead of worrying about Mr. Collins throwing me out of my home.”

“He will not throw you out of Longbourn,” Elizabeth replied, trying but failing to give full attention to the meal in front of her. “At least not soon, as Papa is still the picture of health.”

“He won’t live forever,” came her mother’s response, as it had last night, the night before and the one before that, going back the two weeks since Mr. Bingley’s ball. That blessed day was, in Elizabeth’s mind, the final peaceful one since Mr. Collins’s regrettable visit, which coincided with his surprising and distasteful marriage proposal.

“We won’t know for sure until Mr. Bennet passes, and I am left alone in this world to fend for myself, will we?” Mrs. Bennet said this with a sniff while thrusting the food into her mouth as though it, like her daughter, existed only to disappoint her.

She chewed with vigor, the vigorous movement of her jaw a testament to her irritation with this unyielding woman. “And what,” she asked after swallowing, “happens when your father passes, and this blasted entail gives Mr. Collins the title to Longbourn? Do you suppose he will welcome your presence in the same house where you turned his kind offer down? He is more likely to eject you at once and probably throw me out with you.”

Mr. Bennet, who until now seemed content to observe the proceedings, cleared his throat, the sound drawing the attention of both combatants. “I am still alive,” he said, his ever-present smile visible, although appearing dimmed somewhat from the repetitive argument, Elizabeth presumed.

“Contrary to your predictions, I have no plans to shuffle off this mortal coil,” he continued, turning his head toward her, and rolling his eyes. The act almost pulled a laugh from her, but she bit down on her lip to keep her mouth closed. Reacting to her father’s display with any signs of merriment now, in defiance of her mother’s foul mood, would increase her anger, a result she wished to avoid if possible.

“But if you were to die suddenly,” Mrs. Bennet replied, as Elizabeth knew she would, “Mr. Collins would be sure to evict me at once as payment for my allowing Lizzy to refuse his kind offer.”

Mr. Bennet sighed, fixing his wife with an icy stare Elizabeth saw as a sign of his growing frustration with this incessant harping on a matter that should have been settled with the man’s departure from the estate.

“I hope he was smart enough,” continued her father with another smile to his daughter and a shrug of his shoulders, “to realize the futility of continuing with his foolish pursuit of a girl who refused his advances, more than once, to my recollection. Why can’t you let the matter die a quiet death, instead of raising it at every meal?”

“All she needed was to accept his offer,” cried Mrs. Bennet, a mournful sob escaping with the words as she raised her napkin and the spittle accompanying her declaration. “Would marriage to Mr. Collins be so horrible that she could not consider her poor mother’s future security?”

“Apparently so,” said Mr. Bennet, “and I don’t blame her. Until the man showed up at our door, she had never met him. How can you expect her to commit to marrying a stranger who, you must agree, did not present himself at all well? To be truthful, if I were in Lizzy’s shoes, I would have refused him just as fast, if not faster.”

“But you weren’t,” said Mrs. Bennet, “so the decision wasn’t yours, was it?” She heaved a great sigh that, coming from anyone else, Elizabeth might have taken as her surrender to the facts. This, however, was a woman not known for recognizing the realities of a situation if they disagreed with her preconceived notions.

“I could never marry a man I didn’t know, Mama,” Elizabeth offered, frustrated with the repeated refusal to accept the fact that she would not be forced into a union not of her own choosing.

“If we were acquainted before his visit and spent some time with one another first, I would have been persuaded to give his proposal more consideration,” she added, to calm her mother’s wounded pride. “But to ask for my hand, then to assume my immediate acceptance, was something I could not countenance. I hope you can understand my position.”

Mrs. Bennet did not reply immediately, appearing lost in thought for a long moment. When at last she raised her eyes to fasten them on her daughter, Elizabeth was relieved to see the concession on her face, an emotion missing from their previous conversations. She welcomed the change and accepted it fully, pushing aside the questions about this sudden difference threatening to rise within her. Reaching this agreement was triumph enough for now, especially if it brought peace to Longbourn.

Relief settled upon her soul and remained for the next month. With the passage of time, the argument faded from her memory, as did the details of their disagreement. The approach of Christmas banished the remaining considerations as she joined her mother and sisters in their preparation for the family’s commemoration of that most sacred of days.

Mrs. Bennet greeted the approaching festivities with more excitement than in prior years, but the improvement in her mood made no impression on Elizabeth, other than bringing an appreciation for the joyous mien that seemed to inhabit the woman from the beginning of December.

Her mother took care to involve her in plans for Christmas and beyond, asking her politely to complete various tasks to prepare for the beloved day.

A request for a certain spool of ribbon sent her to Meryton with Jane, Kitty, and Lydia, who seized upon the opportunity to go with her on a visit to town. Elizabeth suspected that for her two younger sisters, the desire to join her had more to do with their mild desperation to escape Mrs. Bennet’s musings regarding her hopes, but she did not object to their company.

“Kitty, Lydia, come back,” she called when they ran ahead. “I prefer that we stay together. Meryton will be crowded, and I don’t wish to be searching all over town for you.”

“Why not let them go?” asked Jane. “They won’t be hard to locate. This town is not large, and all the shops are along this road, so how far can they get? Kitty told me she wants to call on one or two friends, and I assume Lydia does as well. What trouble are they going to cause in the hour we plan to be here?”

Elizabeth shook her head as an involuntary shudder ran up her spine and across her shoulders. “Knowing our youngest sister, I don’t need to guess,” she said. “Remember the incident in the milliner’s on our last visit to town? I won’t suffer that embarrassment again. And with her newly discovered interest in the other sex, it is only a matter of time before she throws herself at a local boy. I’m sure Papa would rather not have to soothe an angry parent or explain her actions to a confused man.”

“Maybe we should leave them both at Aunt Phillips’s house until you are ready to go,” said Jane, laughing softly as Kitty neared them, the other some distance behind.

“Can’t we call on our friends?” said Lydia, her whine not unexpected but still annoying, as she seemed to possess an innate compulsion to resist direction. While the practice often freed her from restrictions her mother sought to place her under, Elizabeth’s response was to insist that the girl listen and obey. She had yet to win their battle of wills, but the inevitability of eventual surrender had not convinced her that resistance was time-consuming and futile.

“We will see,” said Elizabeth to shorten the argument and give her sisters hope they might have their desires met. “That depends on our finding the ribbon Mama wanted me to bring back and on how much of the day we spend arguing about what you can or cannot do today.”

“Fine,” said Lydia with an aggrieved sigh. “We’ll follow you, but please, let’s hurry.”

Elizabeth gave no reply but began walking again toward Meryton, which revealed itself as they followed the road’s last curve before ending at their destination.

The first thing she noticed upon entering was the decorations set out in preparation for Christmas Day. Smaller boughs of holly adorned most of the shop windows, adding a festive air to the merchants’ establishments. Additional branches were tied to many of the lamp posts in town, halfway between each base and its light, their dark green, glossy leaves a perfect companion to the red berries adorning each bough.

The greenery gave the town’s main street a cheerfulness that seemed to affect the crowds likewise, if the numerous friendly greetings extended to them was any sign. Mr. Bennet believed the appearance of these adornments, erected by Meryton’s merchants as if by common consent, was done to encourage customers to loosen their money pouches and purchase something special for Christmas.

In his opinion, with which Elizabeth had to agree, the decorating began earlier each year. Whereas in the past, the holly was hung a day or two before, it now appeared a week or more in advance. She had no complaints; for her, the sight of Meryton bedecked in all its festive finery led her thoughts to the event they celebrated and encouraged gratitude for that blessed occasion to arise in her soul. Who could fault that?

“Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth,” a voice called out upon their exiting the milliner’s, the wanted ribbon having been located and purchased, “what a delightful surprise to see you in Meryton today.”

Elizabeth looked for the speaker and saw Mr. Bingley, two doors away from them in front of the confectioner, his arm raised in an enthusiastic wave as if he feared they might not hear his summons. With him was Mr. Darcy, looking dour, as seemed his wont from what she had observed at previous meetings.

She did not know whether to take his expression as a judgment on Meryton or her in particular but decided to ignore the provocation. Since his slight at the assembly, which Jane insisted was unintentional, she had left the matter in the past. If the man meant no harm, surely she could find it within herself to forgive him.

“Hello, Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy,” said she, nodding in greeting to both. “What brings you to Meryton?”

“Nothing special,” Mr. Bingley replied with a nervous laugh and a glance toward his friend, who shook his head at the obvious falsehood, but offered no correction. “We were at loose ends, so I suggested we come and look through the shops at the wares for sale.”

“And did anything attract your interest?” she asked as the men matched their pace, walking alongside while they made their way along the street. Elizabeth noticed, with some amusement, how Mr. Bingley placed himself beside Jane, moving Kitty aside to accomplish his goal, although she did not show any opposition to giving up her position.

“I think Meryton looks nice all dressed up for Christmas,” said Mr. Bingley, nodding toward the greens and reds of the branches resting on most of the poles they passed. “This is much nicer than anything you might see in London right now, isn’t it, Darcy?”

“That is a hard question to answer,” said his friend. “As we are not there, I have no idea how everything looks today.”

“Well, I know exactly how the roads look,” said Mr. Bingley, smiling at Jane as though imparting a long-hidden secret. “And they are not like the ones in Meryton. Last year, I don’t remember seeing anything more than a sprig or two in the odd shop and nothing outside on the streets. It was almost as if nobody cared about the day or the reason for celebrating.”

“But I thought you told me the city was locked up tight,” said Mr. Darcy with a smile. “With everything closed, there must have been some sort of celebration or commemoration.”

“That is true,” said Mr. Bingley, “but people I spoke with made no mention of the day, nor talk about attending a church service or sharing a special meal afterward. If I didn’t know better, I would assume they passed the day without exchanging gifts or anything else by way of celebration. At least here everyone is wishing us well and the shops are displaying boughs of Christmas holly.”

Though he directed his reply to his companion, Elizabeth saw his attention had turned to Jane. Had he fallen in love with her? She couldn’t say for sure, but in her opinion, the possibility existed.

“What about you, Mr. Darcy?” she asked him, now curious about his manner of celebrating Christmas. “Do you and your sister gather together, or do you occupy yourself with estate matters and leave your sister to fend for herself?”

He laughed in response, but Elizabeth thought she saw guilt in his eyes. “Unfortunately, we could not spend last Christmas with each other,” he confessed, although telling her seemed to cause him pain.

“I can’t imagine spending the day without my family,” said she. “After the church service, we gather in the sitting-room and listen to Papa read from the Gospel of Luke.”

“I assume you are referring to the second chapter,” said Mr. Darcy, “and the story of the birth of Christ?”

“Yes,” answered Elizabeth with a chuckle, which brought a look of censure from the gentleman.

“Do you normally find a reason to laugh while your father reads?” he asked.

“No!” she hastened to answer. “Your comment had me remembering him reading the passage last year. We have had this tradition for as long as I can recall, as we recite the scriptural account along with him. It is a fond memory of how we value each other’s company, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

Mr. Darcy nodded in agreement, although grief clouded his eyes. “Traditions are essential, especially on occasions like this. I wish my parents were here to celebrate with us. With just Georgiana and I, we’ve had to find ways of sharing the joy of the season without family, because we are alone.”

Sadness stirred in Elizabeth’s bosom at Mr. Darcy’s recounting of his manner of Christmas observation. Tears gathered in her eyes, and despair tugged at her heart until she saw a peaceful smile settling on his countenance, its appearance chasing the grief from his face.

“To fight the loneliness,” he continued, “we make it a habit of inviting Pemberley’s tenant farmers to share our holiday meal. It is a lot of work for the cook and the household servants, but when I ask their opinion on the matter, they tell me how much joy my gesture brings into their lives.”

“Are you sure they are giving an honest answer?” asked Elizabeth, thinking of the Longbourn servants’ anticipation of spending time with their loved ones. Mr. Bennet did not insist on any of them sacrificing their time tending to the Bennet family’s needs. For this one day, he insisted they do as much for themselves as they possibly could.

The cook prepared as much of the feast as she could in advance, leaving only the goose, which was the work of a single kitchen servant and none of the maids to serve the dinner. Mr. Bennet firmly believed the period should be spent with family and included his maids, cooks, and others in his employ in the consideration wherever possible.

“I hope so,” replied Mr. Darcy, the smile he displayed one of confidence. “The Pemberley servants are well treated and welcomed to our Christmas table. Rather than have them serving and taking dirty plates away at once, the meal is served in much the same way as the sweets and refreshments at an assembly, with the food placed on the sideboard and our guests free to serve themselves.”

Mr. Darcy gave a rueful laugh and shook his head. “It is a practice I tend not to mention to any of my neighbors. The only person I confided in thought I was quite mad. To avoid further censure or ridicule, I have since kept that information to myself. You are only the second person to know of my habit.”

“How thoughtful of you,” said Elizabeth, wondering if Mr. Bennet would consider starting such a custom at Longbourn. “Your servants are blessed to have such a compassionate master.”

“I try to treat them with dignity,” said he, the pink hue coming to his face touching Elizabeth’s heart.

Casting her eyes about, she spied Jane and Mr. Bingley, their heads together in earnest conversation as the company proceeded along the street. “It seems Mr. Bingley and my sister are growing closer every day,” said she, her remarks met with red faces from both, as if they were ashamed of Elizabeth’s declaration.

“This is a side of Bingley I haven’t seen before,” said Mr. Darcy, affection for his friend plain in his tone of voice. “I hope your mother doesn’t take it upon herself to interfere with their growing relationship. Forcing Miss Bennet into Bingley’s arms would be a mistake.”

“Mama is not in the habit of pushing Jane, or me, to chase anyone,” snapped Elizabeth, her eyes narrowing and her nostrils flaring at his insult. “We can make our own decisions when it comes to love or the lack of it. You, and Mr. Bingley’s sisters, would be well-advised to consider that when you dismiss us as unworthy of your notice.”

“And you should examine your answers to innocent comments before calling my motives into question,” replied Mr. Darcy, the words leaving his mouth like daggers, seeking her heart as revenge for dismissing his reply in so abrupt a manner.

“I think we need to go home,” said Elizabeth, choosing distance from this man as a better alternative than trading insults. Separating herself from his conceited and dismissive demeanor was preferable to remaining anywhere near such an arrogant individual.

“Come, Kitty, Lydia,” she demanded, turning her back on Mr. Darcy and putting her hand on her youngest sister’s sleeve to pull her away from the group. Kitty, she knew, would follow along behind, but if she didn’t make the girl accompany her, she would find herself on the road to Longbourn alone.

“Wait for me, Lizzy,” cried Jane, offering Mr. Bingley an apology for the unexpected conclusion of their visit to Meryton.

“I hope you will continue to call,” said she, a rapid wave all she could offer before running after Elizabeth, setting a brisk pace along the lane that would take them to the estate.

“What happened between you and Mr. Darcy this time?” asked Jane when she drew alongside her sister, who was not inclined to slow her footsteps in deference to her sister’s difficulty to keep up. “You were having such a friendly conversation, and then you had to leave right away. Did he touch you inappropriately or make a disturbing suggestion? I hope not, because that does not seem like a man Mr. Bingley would befriend.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” snapped Elizabeth, regretting her words as soon as she uttered them, then struggling with to conquer the pride that fought her desire to apologize to her sister. The battle ended with her decision to revisit the matter once they arrived at home. Jane would not hold a grudge over her shameful conduct, but she deserved an apology for this unseemly behavior.

Thankfully, the journey finished without further discussion, giving Elizabeth the chance to recall her conversation with Mr. Darcy, and the criticism that raised her ire.

Was he joking? I’m sure he’s been a witness to Mama’s less than dignified comments concerning them and her obsession with their income. Maybe I am in the wrong here and took offense where none was deserved. I suppose Jane is not the only person I need to ask for forgiveness. Whether or not he meant his comment as an insult, I should not have jumped to that conclusion without first thinking about the meaning behind what he said.

Elizabeth’s self-reflection had the effect of raising her spirits, and by the time Hill met them at the entrance, she felt her former cheery attitude returning. Voices greeted them as the door closed, prompting Elizabeth to turn toward the butler, her brows raised in an unspoken question.

“I’ve been instructed to send you into the sitting-room,” said he in answer. “Mrs. Bennet said you were to go there as soon as you got home.”

Dread began in her stomach, spreading to her bosom as she neared the entrance, where she heard a too-familiar voice droning on regarding some vitally unimportant issue or another.

“As I said to Lady Catherine,” Mr. Collins was declaring when she dragged herself into the room, her feet unwilling to drag her into what she foresaw as a coming argument, “proper understanding of the scriptures is my duty as parson, not his.”

The scene which met her eyes might have entertained her, if not for this unwelcome guest in the party. Her mother occupied her usual chair beside the fireplace, listening with seemingly rapt attention to the nonsense issuing from Mr. Collins’s mouth. Across the area was her father, looking equally amused and annoyed by the inanities that filled the room and threatened to consume the available air with its idiocy.

Mr. Collins sat facing Mrs. Bennet, appearing, in Elizabeth’s opinion, entirely too sure of himself. Gone was the beaten manner he wore upon leaving for Rosings Park some weeks ago, replaced by a surety she found disconcerting.

“Miss Elizabeth, how nice to see you again,” said he, the words oozing from his mouth like melted wax, too thick to flow freely, but thin enough to cover an unwary or wrongly placed hand. “I promise my visit will not make you uncomfortable. In fact, I promise our parting will come on much friendlier terms this time.”

In a panic, Elizabeth looked at her father, whose smile faltered but remained in place. Before she found the words to disabuse him of any romantic intentions he still held, Mrs. Bennet spoke up, defeating her efforts to enjoy the rest of this day.

“Isn’t it wonderful, Lizzy?” said she, excitement mixing with anticipation, but for what Elizabeth feared to ask. “Mr. Collins has agreed to spend Christmas with us. I wonder if we might prevail upon him to do the scripture reading after the church service this year. Wouldn’t that be a welcome addition to our celebration, having a man of the cloth giving his scriptural interpretation of that blessed event?”

Elizabeth’s opinion on the matter differed significantly from her mother’s, but previous experience and the desire to preserve what she could of the peaceful observance of the coming week kept her mouth closed. If she paid careful attention to her thoughts and refused to offer the first replies that came to mind in response to his assuredly vapid statements, she might make it through Christmas without plotting then committing bodily harm upon her cousin. She was not completely convinced of the ultimate success of her plan, but she had to try.

Come back on Thursday for Chapter 2, where Mr. Collins becomes even more insufferable and Christmas guests, recognizing her dilemma, begin to come to her rescue.