A Most Civil Proposal (48 page)

Elizabeth looked toward the head of the table as her husband rose to his feet and cleared his throat in preparation for the traditional toast at the Christmas season. Silence began to spread outwards as more and more of the family became aware of Darcy’s intention. The children’s tables were the last to become quiet, and Mary had to chide several of the children before they were stilled.

When the room was sufficiently quiet, Darcy began. “For my whole life, our family has gathered at Pemberley to celebrate this sacred season. I can remember my father standing here in this same position, and I remember wishing that he would hurry up so we could exchange presents and light the Yule log.” A ripple of laughter swept the room, louder in the sections where the younger people sat.

“But my father would always remind us that we should honour the most important things in our lives and would do so in their proper order: God, Family, and Country. So I will begin by speaking of this Christmas season and the reason for its celebration, which is the birth of our Saviour. I will not offer a toast, for we shall share communion with Reverend Mayfair at the Pemberley Chapel on the morrow, but I will just ask that all of us keep the reason for this celebration in our hearts as we enjoy the festivities.”

Darcy was silent for a few moments, his head bowed in either prayer or contemplation before he continued. “Now I shall offer the first toast to our family, who are gathered together in unprecedented numbers,” he said, raising his head to sweep the room. “These numbers are especially extraordinary since it seems we have finally found the limits of Pemberley,” he said, drawing another round of laughter, since the guests had filled the house to bursting and beyond, so that some of the late arrivals had been put up at one of the inns in Lambton. “But nevertheless, we are all gathered together on this most special evening, and it is overwhelming to look out on all those who are most dear to us. I speak of my brother, Charles Bingley, who was my good friend before he was my brother. I speak of my sister, Jane Bingley, who was my wife’s sister before she became my own. I speak of my first sister, Georgiana Fitzwilliam, and her husband, General Richard Fitzwilliam, who was my cousin before he so
impulsively
became my brother.”

The laughter this time was loud and long, and Richard was among those who laughed loudest. One young voice called from the back of the room, “Control yourselves, please, cousins! Else we shall again hear the story of his courtship!” This comment only made the laughter swell.

When the laughter died out, Darcy continued, “I speak of all our children, grandchildren and even great-grandchildren. And now I ask you to join me in a toast to all the members of our family on the occasion of this Christmas season. To our family!” he exclaimed, raising his glass of wine before draining its contents.

When all had lowered their glasses, Darcy continued, “And now, I shall ask my brother, General Richard Fitzwilliam, to offer a toast to our country.”

Turning to Fitzwilliam, he commented slyly, “And I would suggest that you keep this short, Richard.” The laughter was light amid the clinking of decanters against the rims of wine glasses as General Fitzwilliam rose to his feet.

“Friends and family,” he said, raising his glass, “I am honoured to give the toast to our beloved country, whose uniform I have worn my whole life. I give you England, Scotland, Ireland, Wales, and the British Empire, on which the sun never sets, and its sovereign, Victoria, by the grace of God, Queen and Empress. Ladies and Gentlemen, God Save the Queen!”

“God Save the Queen!”

Fitzwilliam took his seat after draining his glass, and Georgiana put her arm through his and leaned over to kiss his cheek fondly.

Darcy once again stood at the head of the table — to the surprise of everyone since the toast to Country was the traditional final toast at these yearly gatherings.

“Friends and family, Ladies and Gentlemen,” he said, “I ask your indulgence to make an additional toast this year, a toast to the most extraordinary woman I have ever known, who has made my life a delight since we exchanged vows on a bright April day that seems like it was only yesterday. The woman who has borne my children and shared my life and who has been an unequalled mistress of Pemberley. I do not deserve her, and I came unbearably close to never winning her, and I thank God every day for my good fortune!”

“Tell us about
your
courtship!” one of the guests called out, but Darcy only smiled.

“So now I propose that we drink to my wife these last 45 years.” He raised his glass toward the foot of the table, while tears stung at the corners of his eyes.

“I drink to you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy!”

“Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy!” came the thundering response.

End

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