Page 37 of A Christmas Understanding

Storm clouds gathered. “That was mine.”

“It was.”

“You knew I was going to lose it.”

“I did warn you.”

“You could have warned me again.”

There was logic hidden inside this rebuff. If the boy had not understood the warning, perhaps the useful thing would have been to explain it differently. After all, one did not play chess with a six-year-old so much as teach chess to a six-year-old. And doing so would be an excellent distraction from the understanding of Miss Bingley’s . . . affliction.

Master Edward waited.

Darcy replaced the bishop upon its square. “Very well. Let us try this again.”

Master Edward brightened, and Miss Elizabeth smiled at him before returning to her sewing.

The smile was more satisfying than it ought to have been.

After two more moves, Master Edward paused. “Besides what you had to eat, what else did you do at Christmas?”

Master Henry came to join them. Christmas, it seemed, was a topic of great interest.

Darcy opened his mouth, but nothing emerged.

It was not a difficult question. Most of his Christmases had been spent at Pemberley, though there had been a few in London and one miserable Christmas at Cambridge when the snow had made all the roads impassable.

But the children were not asking where he had eaten his Christmas dinner. He knew from raising his sister that they wanted a story.

Miss Elizabeth had stopped sewing. Even Miss Margaret had paused over her card.

Darcy turned the white knight between his fingers. “When I was about your age, my father permitted me to remain downstairs later than usual one Christmas Eve.”

“How late?” Master Henry asked.

“Nine.”

Master Henry was impressed.

Master Edward was not. “I stayed awake until ten once.”

“Without permission, I presume,” Miss Elizabeth said, glancing at her aunt.

“It was still later,” Master Edward insisted.

“I was seven, Master Edward,” Darcy said, and the boy stopped arguing and gave Darcy his full attention. “My mother had invited several families from the neighbourhood to dine with us, and my cousin Richard was visiting with his family.” He paused to add, “He is a colonel in the army now.”

This appeared to improve the story considerably.

“What did he do?” Master Edward asked. He sounded suspicious.

Darcy held back a smile. “Why do you assume he did anything?”

“Because he is a colonel,” Master Henry said.

“Well, you are right as it happens. My mother had arranged the greenery that afternoon, as was traditional. Richard became convinced one particular branch had been placed incorrectly.”

Miss Elizabeth’s brows rose. “Were you of the same opinion?”