Elizabeth’s cheeks flushed pink, though that might have been the cold air. “Well then, Christmas Eve at Pemberley it is. Should I bring anything? I feel like I should contribute something, but I suspect my usual offerings might not quite match the grandeur of the setting.”
“Just yourself,” Darcy said. “And Waffles, of course. I’m sure Athena would be deeply offended if he weren’t invited.”
“She’ll regret that sentiment approximately one minute after he arrives,” Elizabeth warned. “But I’ll do my best to keep him from destroying anything priceless.”
“Pemberley has survived everything from a Civil War siege to Georgiana’s teenage horse obsession. I think it can handle one enthusiastic golden retriever.”
They continued wandering through the market, but Darcy found his attention split between Elizabeth’s commentary on various stalls and his own growing anticipation. Christmas at Pemberley with Elizabeth. The chance to show her the library where he’d spent countless childhood hours, the music room where his mother had once played piano, the grounds he’d roamed as a boy. The chance to see his family home through her eyes, toshare something that mattered to him with someone who was beginning to matter even more.
By the time they parted ways that evening, Elizabeth heading back to her flat to wrestle with her latest plot tangle and Darcy returning to Belgravia to contemplate the logistics of hosting the woman he was certain he was falling in love with, he felt lighter than he had in weeks.
Christmas at Pemberley with Elizabeth. Whatever happened next, he was going to make sure it was perfect.
Chapter Seven
The moment Darcy opened her car door, Waffles leapt out over her like he’d been fired from a cannon. Elizabeth lunged for the trailing leash, missed, and stumbled after him, just in time to see him gallop straight through the open front door into Pemberley’s grand entrance hall.
“Waffles, no!” she cried, but he was already there, a golden blur skidding to a stop in front of an antique table groaning under an arrangement of winter greenery. He didn’t jump, didn’t even need to. His tail, wagging with the force of a small hurricane, thumped once, twice—and clipped the leg of the table. Elizabeth’s breath caught as a crystal vase wobbled, spun, and teetered in slow motion.
Darcy moved with surprising speed, catching the vase just as it began to tip. “Got it.” He steadied the arrangement as though retrieving expensive crystal from golden retriever-induced peril was nothing new.
“I’m so sorry,” Elizabeth began, mortified. “He gets excited in new places, and I should have—”
But Darcy was looking down at Waffles, who had decided that since the interesting table was now secure, the next order ofbusiness was to investigate the person who had rescued it. The dog was sitting directly on Darcy’s feet, gazing up at him with an expression of pure adoration.
Elizabeth wanted to sink through the floor. “I think he’s claiming you.”
To her astonishment, Darcy stood to his full 6’2” height, and said, very sternly, “Leave it, Waffles.”
And wonder of wonders, Waffles stood, backed up, and plopped his rear end down on the floor. Then, resuming his loving look up at Darcy, he wagged his tail.
“Traitor!” she exclaimed with a surprised little laugh.
“Me or him?” Darcy inquired, lifting one eyebrow.
“William!” A warm voice called from the top of the elegant staircase. “Did I hear the sounds of impending destruction?”
“Georgiana,” Darcy called up to his sister, “come meet Waffles. He’s just introduced himself to the Waterford crystal.”
“Did he win?” Georgiana asked, trotting down the stairs.
Elizabeth found her voice again . “It was a draw, though I think your brother ought to be credited with that.”
Georgiana crouched to greet Waffles, who abandoned Darcy in favour of this new source of attention. “Aren’t you handsome? Yes, you are.” She looked up at Elizabeth. “The dogs we’ve had over the years have done the same. Fortunately, nothing irreplaceable has ever been broken.”
“Because most of it’s in storage or in the parts of the house we don’t use very often,” Darcy added.
Elizabeth watched this exchange with growing amazement. She’d been prepared for polite tolerance, perhaps even well-concealed dismay at having to accommodate a badly behaved dog in such elegant surroundings. Instead, she was witnessing genuine delight, as though Waffles’s near-disaster had been the sort of entertainment they’d been hoping for.
“I am so sorry,” she said to Darcy, who was still holding the vase. “He’s usually not quite so . . .explosive.”
Darcy shook his head. “That table has survived two centuries of various family pets. I doubt Waffles could do anything our ancestors’ hunting hounds haven’t previously managed.”
As if summoned by the mention of proper canine behaviour, Athena completed her inspection tour and trotted to the group.
“Athena, Waffles is here,” Georgiana said. “Waffles, you should know that Athena’s very important at Pemberley.”
Waffles, evidently sensed that a more formal protocol was required, and offered Athena his paw. Elizabeth blinked. It was the most civilised thing she had ever seen him do.
