Christmas, Love and Mr. Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

By P. O. Dixon

"I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun." - Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

Mr. Darcy is tired of being alone for the holidays, and he is determined to do something about it.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet has never desired Mr. Darcy's good opinion, and yet she arrives in London for the Twelfth Night ball and soon learns he is bestowing it, most ardently. Elizabeth was not looking for love, but what happens when love comes looking for her? Is the proud gentleman from Derbyshire someone with whom she can trust her heart?


Christmas, Love & Mr. Darcy is a delightfully engaging novella that reimagines Jane Austen's timeless classic, Pride and Prejudice. The story combines just enough of the old to satisfy your want of nostalgia and enough of the new to quench your desire for another romantic escape with Darcy and Elizabeth.

The tale begins one Christmas and concludes the next. When it comes to falling in love, it's what happens in between that makes all the difference.

• Language: English
• Publisher: P. O. Dixon
• Release date: Mar 19, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393706991

P. O. Dixon

Bestselling historical fiction author, P. O. Dixon, is a great admirer of Historical England and its fascinating days of yore. She, in particular, loves the Regency period with its strict mores and oh so proper decorum. Her ardent appreciation of Jane Austen's timeless works set her on the writer's journey. Visit podixon.com and find out more about Dixon's writings.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Darcy House - London, England 1811

What has become of the truth universally acknowledged that the holiday season is a special time of year generally spent with one’s family?

You and I always spend Christmas together.

Fitzwilliam Darcy hardly knew how to look or how to feel while listening to his sister’s plans for the Christmas season.

He could not help being dismayed. I have already made arrangements for us to travel to Matlock.

A serious young man of seven and twenty, he shouldered a weighty burden being the master of a grand estate responsible for hundreds of livelihoods and the co-guardian of his young sister owing to their parents’ deaths.

There they sat having breakfast at the large mahogany dining room table heavily laden with fresh fruit, various meats, and other delectable dishes, which belied its setting for two.

Miss Georgiana Darcy, unable to support the idea of grieving a brother whom she almost looked up to as a father, shifted in her chair and put on a strong face. Now that she was growing older, she no doubt looked forward to the prospect of spending time with others who were closer to her in age.

At that moment, she caused him a great deal of consternation. Darcy was not used to having his wishes subjugated by others.

Does your desire to be apart from me have anything to do with what happened last summer? he asked, tempering his tone to mask his disappointed hopes.

He was referring to his sister’s near brush with scandal in which a former family acquaintance, a Mr. George Wickham, had followed her to Ramsgate and preyed upon her innocence. Just thinking of that vile man’s intentions toward Georgiana turned Darcy’s stomach. He loathed the man, even though he and Wickham once lived together at Pemberley, Darcy’s estate in Derbyshire. Darcy’s late father had made Wickham his godson, for heaven’s sake. What a harrowing turn of events.

Georgiana was a gentleman’s daughter and the granddaughter of an earl. Wickham was the son of her late father’s former steward. She was but fifteen—Wickham was almost twice her age. Georgiana stood to assume her place among society’s elites when she came of age. Her future was bright. Heaven only knew what was to become of Wickham, but considering the path he had chosen, his prospects were dim. A gamester, a scoundrel, and a deadbeat. Such an alliance bordered on lunacy.

Still, the childhood fondness that she had cherished toward the would-be suitor was enough for her to accept his professions of love and his proposal of marriage.

Georgiana confided the entire elopement scheme to Darcy upon his unexpected yet timely arrival in Ramsgate. Perhaps her confession was a testament to her love for her older brother, whose opinion meant everything to her, or her enthusiasm over marrying a gentleman whom she adored, or some naïve combination of the two that persuaded her to confide in him. Whatever was the reason, it mattered not. Darcy was livid!

A single encounter between him and Wickham in which Darcy declared his former friend turned nemesis would never receive a penny of Georgiana’s fortune was all that it took to send the latter scurrying on his way, empty-handed.

He had yet to explain to her the actual reason he had sent Wickham away. He believed it would be one of the most challenging conversations he could have with his young sister. She had suffered enough shame over what she had almost done. Besides, as an older brother, Darcy meant to protect his sister, not subject her to further anguish.

Despite Georgiana’s ensuing heartbreak, Darcy had not taught himself to regret his actions. He would not hesitate to do it again. He told his sister as much. Concluding his assertion, he said, I dare not apologize for doing what was right in separating the two of you.

Brother, I do not expect you to apologize. However, the fact remains that I was close to getting married, which means I am no longer a child.

You are only sixteen.

Old enough to get married—with consent, of course. Why some of my friends are planning their coming out balls and presentation at court already.

Is that something you are hoping for as well?

I know you believe I ought to wait, and I have no objections. I only mentioned it hoping you will quit thinking of me as a child and start regarding me as the young woman I am becoming, one with thoughts and desires of my own, Georgiana said. None of that detracts from the fact that I esteem you as an older brother. She gave Darcy a sidelong glance. Your friend, Lord Milton, has given his consent for Lady Suzanne to join the party—if that makes any difference to you. I know how much you respect him.

Very well, Darcy half conceded. So long as there is nothing more to your spending Christmas in Somersetshire, I can have no objections.

Georgiana drew a quick breath. So, are you saying you do not believe my intentions are good? Do you think I learned nothing from my experience last summer? With a petulant air, she plucked up her linen napkin and brushed it against her lips.

Fine, Georgiana said before Darcy could respond. If the two of us spending Christmas together means so much to you that you would question my sincerity, I will not go. I shall linger by your side each and every minute of each and every day. Will that make you happy?

No, said Darcy, shaking his head. What I mean to say is yes. It would delight me to spend time with you, but I do not mean to force you into doing so. Your happiness is my primary concern. It always has been and always will be. He hoped this response served its intended purpose of supporting her wishes, even if it meant discouraging his own.

Pray, travel to Somersetshire with your friends. Do so with my blessings and my most heartfelt wish for your enjoyment.

His concession brought a smile to Georgiana’s face. I am certain you shall enjoy the season as well. With so many acquaintances in town at this time of year, I am sure you will not want for diversions.

No doubt, Darcy responded, picking up the daily paper he had set aside upon Georgiana’s joining him for breakfast.

By the bye, I wonder what Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s plans are for this season.

Darcy’s heart banged against his chest at the mention of her name. He peered up from his paper. He could not deny he, too, often thought of Elizabeth and what she was doing. With whom did she spend her time? Would he ever see her again? His sister, however, could not possibly know his innermost thoughts. Of all people, why would you ask about Miss Elizabeth?

Oh, Georgiana said, bringing her porcelain cup to her lips. I recall your frequently mentioning her in your letters from Hertfordshire. She took a sip. I suppose I am a little curious about how she is spending Christmas.

Chapter 2

Two weeks later

Despite his wife’s penchant for rising early, Darcy knew being aroused at three in the morning was not Elizabeth’s idea of how to start the day.

You must join me, he murmured to a slightly annoyed young mistress as he aided her in donning a long, lush, velvety robe. Taking her by the hand, Darcy led her from the bedroom, through the French doors onto the balcony.

Although there were several purposely arranged seats from which to choose, Darcy took one nearest the door and pulled his wife into his lap. Now fully awakened by the frosty air and having darted her eyes from one seat to another, Elizabeth opened her mouth to question his purposes.

Her protest silenced by a sweep of his lips against her cheek, Elizabeth nestled in Darcy’s arms.

How else does a man violently in love with his wife admire the stars? he whispered in her ear, his warm breath caressing her skin.

He wrapped the extra thick blanket that he brought along for good measure around both of them.

Darcy never grew tired of such ardent displays of affection toward Elizabeth. He had promised her that awakening at such an unseemly hour would be well worth the effort. He was right. High above, in the dark tranquil sky, a blanket of stars sparkled like diamonds. A lone star shone brighter than all the rest.

Placing his hand underneath her chin, he coaxed her to look at that star in particular.

While Elizabeth peered up at the dazzling display, Darcy gazed at her. The celestial wonders he had admired for years paled compared to the sparkle in her alluring dark eyes. He had waited all his life to experience that moment with the woman he loved. He had dreamed of holding her in his arms and making love to her until the sun came up, especially during that special time of year.

With his hands clasped lovingly about her waist and his chin resting on her shoulder, Darcy whispered in Elizabeth’s ear, Merry Christmas, Mrs. Darcy.

Tearing her eyes from the brilliant, picturesque sky high above, Elizabeth turned to face him. She peered into Darcy’s eyes. Closing her own, she leaned in. What started as a gentle kiss upon his lips turned into something more. The heavy blanket was fulfilling its intended purpose. Soon enough, she was sitting astride her deeply enamored