Christmas at Pemberley

Part 18

It was the chiming of the clock on the Livingston mantel that alerted Daniel to the fact that he was running late for an appointment he did not realise he had.

"Are you sure you would not care to stay for another cup of tea, Mr Lambert?" Mrs Livingston asked, looking a little put out at the speed with which Daniel gathered his belongings and made for the door, bidding his hosts a hearty farewell as he did so.

"Thank you, no." He beamed. "But I do look forward to seeing you at the Christmas Eve services, and I do hope you will consider attending Miss Darcy's Christmas carol concert in the early evening."

"Miss Darcy's carol concert?" Mrs Livingston frowned. "What is that?"

"Miss Darcy has what?" Mr Livingston was growing increasingly deaf and had followed only every third or fourth word exchanged between his wife and the curate. The introduction of Miss Darcy's name so late in their conversation had evidently piqued his still vibrant curiosity.

"She is putting together a small concert," Daniel said, raising his voice until it felt uncomfortably close to shouting. Mr Livingston did not notice his guest's discomfort, though, merely smiled and nodded.

"I see." Mrs Livingston stood, steering the curate effectively towards the door. As soon as she was out of earshot of her husband, deaf or not, she laid a restraining hand on Daniel's arm. "Mr Lambert." She darted a glance over one shoulder to assure herself she would not be overheard by anybody else and still proceeded to speak in a stern whisper. "Do you think it wise to entrust Miss Darcy with working amongst the children of the village?"

"Wise?" The notion that it could ever be anything other was so surprising to Daniel he was quite unable to temper the shock that showed in his face. Mrs Livingston smiled, sympathetically, her eyes lighting up with gossip she was only too eager to share.

"Ah, I see you have not been fully appraised of the situation."

"The...situation?" Daniel frowned, pausing in the act of placing his hat on his head to clarify his host's meaning. A tiny warning bell was already ringing somewhere in the recesses of his mind. He knew ladies like Mrs Livingston. He had fallen victim to them time and again since Robert's illness. Their feigned concern hid judgment, and they delighted in being the purveyors of news.

"I do not like to speak ill of people," Mrs Livingston demurred, and Daniel bit down hard on his tongue to keep from retorting then do not speak at all! With superhuman strength, he managed to smile, tightly, and waited just long enough for his host to deliver whatever crushing blow she clearly intended on delivering.

"You may care to enquire over Miss Darcy's past association with a gentleman by the name of Wickham, Mr Lambert. Of course, nothing came of it, but I am not sure that the mothers and fathers of this parish, good, God-fearing folk, would be very pleased to know that Miss Darcy would be so closely involved in the forming of the young minds of their children."

Daniel was still turning over Mrs Livingston's spiteful words as he walked back towards the church. He consulted his pocket watch, the only family heirloom he had managed to keep and increased his pace, certain that Miss Darcy and the children would have already been expecting him for quite some time. Now, though, he had more than mere eagerness to see Georgiana Darcy again. In spite of his better nature, he could not quite prevent his mind from turning Mrs Livingston's warning over and over as he walked. There was a knowingness in her eyes, as if she fancied some insight that had been denied to others was hers and hers alone and with it the responsibility to share such knowledge with the minister in order to keep him from committing a graver sin. Graver than disparaging a young lady's name?

By the time he reached the church, he was annoyed, ready to dismiss Mrs Livingston altogether, and as he took the last few steps through the small churchyard he could just distinguish the chorus of children's voices singing in harmony some of the old Christmas songs he so cherished from his own youth. He paused in the doorway, eager to listen and not to disturb them, and fancying he could detect Georgiana's sweet voice from amidst the throng. He smiled waiting for them to land on their last note before pushing the door to the church open and applauding with vigour.

"Bravo! Bravo, all of you!"

The children stopped singing immediately, collapsing into giggles or beaming up at him, ready to receive more praise. Georgiana spun around, her cheeks flushed from embarrassment at being observed unawares, and he removed his hat.

"Miss Darcy, I must congratulate you on your success. If your choir performs even a fraction as well as this tomorrow, well! We shall be better placed than the finest concert halls in London!"

"You are too generous, sir," Georgiana said, ducking her head and turning towards her sister-in-law who, seeming to sense her distress, appeared beside her and slid a companionable arm around her slim waist.

"Accept praise when it is given you, Georgie." She nudged her with one hip. "And when it is earned. Mr Lambert, we are very grateful you should have arrived now and no earlier! I am quite sure you would not speak so warmly of our choir if you had heard them when we first arrived." She looked down at the children, her eyes sparkling with humour. "What a rag-tag bunch you were! And now look, singing like the angels."

"Even if you cannot behave like them!" Mrs Gardiner hissed, leaning down to swipe at a little boy who must have been her son, looking, to Daniel as a very miniature of his father, who grinned sheepishly up at them.

"Well, I am very sorry to have missed the transformation!" Daniel said, turning towards the door. "I suppose you are all eager to return home, now? Perhaps, Miss Darcy, you will allow me to accompany you?"

Georgiana turned to Elizabeth as if to ask her permission, but Mrs Darcy had slipped away, leaving Georgiana with no refuge other than to accept, and, guiding the children like a pair of pied-pipers, Daniel escorted Georgiana Darcy on a meandering tour of the village, all memories of Mrs Livingston's whispers vanishing from his mind with one smile from Georgiana.