Mr. Darcy's Christmas Carol Read Online Free PDF Page A

and the Spirit were looking down at a peacefully sleeping baby. The Spirit tried to gently rock the cradle and was disappointed that her powers were not enough to make the shadows tangible.
    The door opened. “Come meet your new sister, Fitzwilliam.” Both parents ushered him into the room. He approached the baby cautiously. He looked into the cradle and was not overly impressed.
    â€œShe was so small she hardly seemed human to me. At school, I was envied for being an only child, but in turn, I envied those who had brothers and sisters,” Darcy told the Spirit, looking over the shoulder of his younger self.
    â€œAnd now you finally had one of your own.”
    â€œYes, but she was not quite ready to play cricket with me, now was she?” he replied in self-deprecation.
    â€œI imagine not.” The spirit smiled.
    His father said, “If you are gentle, you may hold her.”
    Young Fitzwilliam was not sure if he wanted to touch the baby. “I would rather not. She appears too fragile, and I could break her.”
    â€œBabies are sturdier than you think,” his mother told him, “but you should do what you think is best for your sister.”
    â€œYes, Fitzwilliam, it is your duty to look out for her and keep her from harm. You are her brother and protector.” His father placed a hand upon his shoulder. “I know I can rely on you to do so.”
    The Ghost smiled thoughtfully and waved its hand, saying as it did so, “Let us see another Christmas!”
    Darcy’s former self grew larger at the words. How this was brought about, Darcy knew not. He only knew that it was quite correct; that everything had happened so; that there he was, home from school for the holiday.
    He watched as Christmas day passed again, his mother, his father, Georgiana, and himself enjoying Christmas dinner, presents, reading poetry, and just being together as a family.
    It was in the evening, and Darcy saw his younger self hide a yawn. His sister was already asleep upon a sofa. He watched as Lady Anne sat down beside him on the sofa, saying, “Now, William, I want to read you the verse I gave you. It is my wish for you that you become such a man when you are grown.” And from The Canterbury Tales she began to read of the Knight:
    A Knight there was, and that a worthy man,
    Who, from the moment when he first began
    To ride forth, loved the code of chivalry:
    Honor and truth, freedom and courtesy.
    As those words filled the room, Darcy knew this day. Unbeknownst to all, it had been the final Christmas he had shared with both his parents. After his mother death, his recollections of this time had him listening with keen interest to every word his mother spoke. Yet the evidence before him showed he had not attended the reading with anything more than a polite interest as his younger self tried to conceal another yawn. So he took the opportunity the Spirit provided to listen until the final words were spoken.
    â€¦Renowned he was; and, worthy, he was wise—
    Prudence, with him, was more than mere disguise;
    He was as meek in manner as a maid.
    Vileness he shunned, rudeness he never said
    In all his life, treating all persons right.
    He was a truly perfect, noble knight.
    â€œThank you, Mother, it is always a pleasure to listen to you read. I shall endeavor to live up to those expectations,” said his younger self.
    â€œâ€˜Vileness he shunned, rudeness he never said/In all his life, treating all persons right,’” quoted the Spirit. “You have not always lived up to those expectations.”
    â€œNo, I have not, I have come to regret it, ma’am.” Darcy frowned. He had not treated Elizabeth right, nor her sister Jane, nor his own friend Bingley. It had led to much misery for all parties.
    He was walking up and down despairingly. Darcy looked at the Ghost, and with a mournful shaking of her head, the room changed to the one he had during his last year at Eton.