Page 38 of A Christmas Understanding

“I had no opinion upon the greenery,” Darcy informed her.

“What did he do?” Master Edward repeated.

“He attempted to correct it.” Darcy hesitated to allow the suspense to build.

It was Miss Eleanor who finally prompted him to continue. “Correct it with what?”

“A chair.”

“To stand upon, you mean?” Miss Margaret asked. “That sounds sensible.”

Darcy drew a breath, made certain all the children were attending, then bent his head down towards them. “It was not.”

That Christmas returned to Darcy with vivid clarity. He recalled being shown into the music room, where the glow of candles was reflected in the long windows. His mother had been sitting at the pianoforte, Aunt Matlock beside her. His uncle and father had been speaking beside the mantel, his father holding a glass in his hand. The guests were in small groups. Even Henry Fitzwilliam, Richard’s older brother who was thirteen that year and at Eton, had been permitted to remain downstairs all evening.

His uncle and cousins were still with him. But many of the people who had been gathered at Pemberley that Christmas were gone now.

“What happened?” Master Edward asked, breaking into Darcy’s rumination. He was grateful, for it had begun to turn melancholy and that was not what was wanted here.

“Richard dragged the chair across the carpet and climbed upon it. He was terribly determined to fix the bit of greenery that had given offence for reasons known only to himself.”

“What did you do, Mr. Darcy?” Miss Margaret asked.

“I steadied the chair,” Darcy said.

“You see?” Miss Elizabeth told her cousins. “Mr. Darcy was involved.”

“I was attempting to prevent an accident,” Darcy protested, but the objection was a mild one.

“Of course,” Miss Elizabeth replied. “At seven, you were every bit as responsible as you are now. And did you?”

Darcy was in danger of never finishing his tale, because Miss Elizabeth’s dark eyes were dancing with mirth and he only wished to watch. “Did I what?”

“Prevent an accident.”

“Oh,” Darcy replied, leaning back. “No. He fell anyway.”

The children pressed nearer.

“Was he hurt?” Miss Eleanor asked.

“Not at all, for he fell upon me.”

Miss Elizabeth’s hand flew to her mouth. “Was he very heavy?” she asked as the children stared up at him.

“He was nine.”

“That does not answer the question,” Miss Elizabeth said.

“He felt extremely heavy at the time.”

Mrs. Gardiner chuckled, and even Bingley and Miss Bennet looked over from beside the fire.

“What was that, Darcy?” Mr. Bingley inquired.

“Mr. Darcy was crushed by his cousin,” Master Henry announced.

“When he was seven,” Miss Elizabeth added.