"We did, my dear," Charles said. "And now, we have preparations to make."
Jane played her part and merely smiled at them as they passed her. "I will be sure to stay out of there for the time being. I would not want to disturb you while you are working."
Harry giggled into his hand, and Jane gave her husband a small wink as she headed out of the house and onto the grounds. It was such a lovely day, and she adored the outdoors. Jane had always loved to saunter in the lovely gardens when the weather was calm. Today she pushed her sleepy baby along as she walked.
Mr. Bingley watched his wife for a moment, but he was interrupted when Harry pulled on his pants' leg with impatience. The boy wanted to help wrap the presents.
Dinner was set when Jane came back inside. Her face looked as though it would split from the smile that was on her face. She ate her food with relish, complimenting Harry and Charles on their culinary choices, as they had chosen the special menu.
Harry sat patiently in his chair until she exclaimed that it was a wonderful meal and thanked them. Charles guided Jane into the living area, and Harry was quick to get out their presents. She opened his first, at his insistence, and was fascinated with the geode. Charles didn't miss the tender smile she gave him when she opened the other bag and took out the necklace. She held both items in her palm and then looked up at the both of them.
"My beautiful boys," Jane whispered. "I thank you from the bottom of my heart." She paused for a moment, just taking in the necklace and the stone. Her eyes were filling with tears, and Charles had the mind to send his son away into the kitchen to find some sweets, so that he could kneel down next to her and kiss those tears away.
When Harry returned, he was none the wiser of his mother's tears, but he nevertheless found his way into her lap to kiss her on the cheek.
"There is something I would like to give you two as well," Jane said, shifting on the settee to grab two small bags from the table next to it. She handed one to Charles and the other to Harry, smiling at her husband. Her son opened the bag without much preamble, and his eyes were wide as saucers when he unveiled what he found.
"My own spyglass!!" Harry exclaimed, gingerly adjusting the brass instrument as he looked around the room. It was just his size, and his father could only imagine what sorts of new adventures he would come up with when he paired it with the playhouse they had on the grounds.
Charles opened his bag, a bit intrigued at his wife's choice of the fine spyglass for their son. As he pulled his gift out of the bag, he realized exactly what she had meant to do.
The signet ring had four stones, two sapphires and two aquamarines, each of them varying in color. The middle of the ring featured an ornate rose. Charles was known to frequently give Jane red roses, thinking they were the most beautiful flower for the most beautiful woman. Charles realized that the stones were the same color as their eyes; the lighter stones for himself and Laura and the darker ones for Jane and Harry. Together, they formed a semi-circle around the rose. He immediately put it on, testing its weight on the finger next to the one with his wedding ring, and then settled it on his right hand. He reached over and squeezed her hand, smiling when she squeezed back.
“Thank you, my darling! I shall cherish it always,” replied Charles.
"Mama!! Thank you!!"
"You are most welcome, my darling."
"Done," Charles whispered, settling next to Jane on the sofa after reading to Harry and sending him off to bed.
They never had enough time to themselves anymore. So much of their time revolved around the children now. Sometimes, thought Charles, they forget that they needed to have time away from their responsibilities.
Jane sighed, leaning hard against the back of the sofa. Although she had done none of the work her husband and son had, she had decided to spend the day with Laura and ended up holding her almost all day long. The children were like a magnet to her, and she loved being a mother.
Her husband sensed her exhaustion and moved his arm to pull her closer to him. She rested her head on his shoulder, content to rest there for the remainder of the evening. She turned her head towards him, looking right into his eyes. Charles had such beautiful eyes that drew her in every time she encountered them. The way that his gaze hit her was something akin to reverence, and she could not help but lean towards him to kiss him.
Charles' kisses were warm and soft. He had moved his hands to cup her face, and they held her so gently that she believed she would weep. She kept her eyes closed and let her arms pull him even closer.
"Happy Anniversary, my angel," he whispered into her neck, and, yes, Jane believed it was one of her happiest yet. She was so content with the life she shared with Charles and Harry and excited for their new daughter who had recently been added to their growing family.
*********
The next morning Jane woke from a very restful sleep. She felt that she must have slept longer than usual. When she opened her eyes, she was surprised when she saw Charles was awake but still in bed next to her.
“Good morning, my angel. Did you sleep well?” he asked.
“Very well,” she said as she stretched lazily. “I feel so rested. What time is it?”
“I believe it is around ten.”
“Ten?” she asked with a confused look on her face. “Why did you not wake me sooner? Harry is used to seeing me by eight. He must be worried.”
Charles chuckled. “I guess you had not noticed, Jane that your son was born with an independent streak in him about a mile wide. While he dearly loves to spend his mornings with you, he was quite easily convinced to forego that ritual in lieu of a day of his own making. I explained to him last night after we read together that while I enjoyed spending my anniversary with him and Laura, I want a day alone with my wife. He would have accepted it in any event, but I thought I would let him have a holiday today as well, while we have ours. I informed Miss Paige and Dan, the stable manager. I know Harry will want to spend most, if not all, of the day outdoors and at least part of the time riding Midnight. I told Mrs. Wilson to ask Harry what he would like for lunch and tea and make him his favorite cake as a special treat. So, do not worry about him for a second. He is in his element today and will not think twice about us.”
Jane smiled and said, “That was very clever of you, Charles, but what of Laura?”
“In case you had not noticed, Jane, the baby sleeps eighteen to twenty hours a day. I assigned Mrs. Darville with the sole responsibility of watching over our daughter today. She will be just fine.”
“I must admit, a day alone with you does sound wonderful,” Jane replied, quickly beginning to warm up to the plan.
“Good! Now let us get dressed and we will spend the day in town. Do you want to eat a little something here, or shall we wait and go to a restaurant?” he asked.
“Let us be wild and eat out!” she laughed.
“Now you are getting into the spirit of the day! The sooner we are ready. The sooner we shall begin! I must say I am looking forward to this more than I can express!” Charles said before kissing his wife and heading to his own chambers to begin dressing.
Jane rang for her maid and instructed her to be as quick as possible. Jane’s excitement at the prospect of the day was growing, and she could not stop herself from smiling as Mrs. Davis did her hair.
Soon they were getting into the carriage and headed to town. They had not explored Derbyshire quite enough to try every restaurant and shop in the district.
“Let us go to that little area we went to when we first moved here,” suggested Charles. “They had some quaint little shops there on the main street. We always meant to return there, if you recall.”
“Oh, yes, I would love that, Charles!”
When they arrived at their destination, they realized they were both famished. Charles asked a local merchant for a recommendation. He directed them to a large old house that was obviously once very grand but had now been turned into an inn. When they turned the corner and s
aw the old mansion that had seen better days, Charles raised his eyebrows and shoulders. “What do you think? It is not much to look at.”
“My mama always says, ‘Ask the locals. They know their town better than an outsider,’” Jane answered.
“Well, then, if Mrs. Bennet says so…,” Charles chuckled as he led his wife into the establishment.
From the moment they walked in, they were enchanted. While the outside could certainly use a new coat of paint and a few repairs, the inside was immaculate. More than that, the place had a charm from years of acquired finery from the tablecloths to the china and carpets. The smells coming from the dining room were as enticing as they could have hoped for. Charles told the hostess that they were there to celebrate their anniversary, and the smiling, pleasant woman led them to a table by the windows. As they walked toward the table, they noticed the view. There was a small pond with swans and ducks in the middle of magnificent rose gardens. The window was ajar and the scent of the flowers drifted in with the gentle breeze blowing that day.
Charles asked the hostess to bring them the cook’s best dishes and their best bottle of champagne. The happy cook was soon at their table greeting them. He was of French origin and animatedly told them he would prepare them something very special. He sent them course after course of his best recipes from his Parisian homeland. It was by far one of the best meals they had ever enjoyed. Afterward they took a stroll in the beautiful gardens and laughed at the baby birds waddling after their mother.
As they walked back through the inn, they noticed a few paintings of horses in which the artist had used vivid colors unlike anything they had ever seen before. They asked the hostess about them and with a broad smile, she said it was the cook’s young nephew who was the artist. They inquired about purchasing one of the striking canvases, and the cook was yet again consulted.
“You like my nephew’s work, yes? He will be so happy to hear this. I will give you one as an anniversary gift,” said the exuberant cook.
“That is very kind and generous of you but I must insist on paying for the artist’s work. It is quite captivating,” Charles said.
“Please, let me give the nice couple a gift. He gave them to me when I asked him to paint with bold colors for the dining room. But he will be so happy to know someone loves his work. I give to you, please.”
“Thank you so very much. Indeed, we will treasure it,” said Jane. “I have no doubt it will be a favorite of our son’s as well, for this one looks a lot like his horse, Midnight.”
They left the charming inn that day with a painting from a teenager by the name of Eugene Delacroix. They would come to acquire quite a collection of his works throughout the years. But the anniversary horse, as Harry would later name it, was the one that brought back the fondest memory of a truly ideal day the couple spent together.
As they walked through the town, they stopped at the pretty shops and found other small treasures here and there, such as a second edition of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. They enjoyed a late afternoon tea when they came across a tea shop with a small seating area.
As the sun was beginning to dip low in the sky, Charles and Jane returned to their carriage feeling refreshed and happy and more in love than they had been on their wedding day.
As they rode home, Jane told her husband, “I needed today! Let us not wait so long to take a day for ourselves again. It was a perfect day. Thank you, Charles.”
“Thank you for marrying me, Jane, and making me the happiest man there ever was,” he replied before he kissed her for the first time of many on their journey home.
When they were a few miles from Bethany House, they passed a huge old oak tree. Charles tapped for the driver to stop, and he said there was one more thing he wanted to do in celebration of their anniversary. He left the carriage and walked over to the tree. Taking out his pocket knife, he carved into the tree “Charles loves Jane.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“So, my dear, have you decided how you would like to celebrate your wedding anniversary?”
Elizabeth looked at her husband with narrowed eyes. “Need I remind you that it is our anniversary, Mr. Darcy, not mine alone?” She was seated at the table in one of Pemberley's many drawing rooms, reading one of the many books that were situated in Darcy's private library. Although she had been married to him for quite some time, she had not been able to properly read all of the books in his collection.
Mr. Darcy smiled indulgently down at his wife, her tart tongue and sharp wit as attractive to him as ever. Even after seven years of marriage, she never failed to bemuse and delight him. “Of course, but the honor of the day was all mine, so the honor of the celebrations should be all yours.”
Darcy wanted the day to be all about his wife. With his business and her own role as head of the household, they never had the time to be together alone. On top of that, Elizabeth hardly had the time anymore to read and walk as she wished. Wendy was growing up quickly, and Elizabeth was adamant that the two of them be constant presences in their children's lives. She would talk about how her father and mother raised her and her siblings with minimal help from the servants and how it had shaped her into becoming someone she was proud to be. Her passion for it made him balk when he was first introduced to the idea, but it had grown on him and he had relented. Since that day, he never regretted his decision. He smiled at the thought and made a small bow towards his wife in recognition that her happiness was more than enough for him.
Elizabeth blushed prettily as her tall, dark, and handsome husband bowed to her. “Behave!" she teased. "I think after all this time and with one child and one on the way, we can dispense with such formalities, sir.” She could not help the giggle that bubbled on her lips and Darcy wanted to kiss her right there to see if he could taste her happiness.
He would kiss her, he decided.
“Your wish is my command,” he replied, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her out of her chair and towards him for a deep, passionate kiss. He felt her respond quickly and with just as much passion, then pull away to turn her head from his. She looked troubled, which was far from what she had been moments ago.
“Stop, the servants will see,” she whispered, a blush still staining her cheeks. Although she was still the same playful woman he had met years ago, there were times when her pride got the better of her. Darcy knew more than anyone what it was like to think too much upon what others saw, and he had hoped that his wife would remain as carefree about it as she had been years ago. He blamed his influence on her for her outburst, and he knew that he needed to do something to ease her nerves.
“Then walk with me.” There would be time for serious thoughts later. For now, Darcy decided to put his plan into action a bit earlier than he expected.
Just then their daughter, Wendy, ran into the room and said excitedly, “We are ready, Mama!”
Her Papa lifted her up into the air, making her squeal with delight. “What is ready?”
Wendy looked at her mother with her eyes as big as saucers and smiled at her father. “It is a surprise! But we are ready to show you now. Come on!”
Her father put her down and looked at his wife inquiringly. “Oh, I see. You have an anniversary present for me, is that it?”
“Now, why would I get you an anniversary present,” she asked playfully as she slipped her arm into his. “This day is all about me, remember?”
They followed their daughter to Mr. Darcy’s study. “Now close your eyes, Papa,” Wendy instructed. “And no peeking!”
Mr. Darcy laughed and obeyed, letting himself be led into the room. Knowing the room as he did, he knew he had come to a stop across from where his desk sat.
“Ok, open your eyes!”
Mr. Darcy opened his eyes and looked in front of him. He could detect no change in the room nor any packages in front of him. “Well, let me see here,” he said as he walked forward towards his desk, searching for anything that might be their surprise for him. He looked over
and around his desk thoroughly, but finding nothing, he finally had to ask, “Can you give me a hint, perhaps?”
As soon as the words came out of his mouth, he looked up towards his wife and daughter, and he saw it. Hanging on the wall behind and above them, directly across from where he would sit at his desk, was a beautiful painting. He had other paintings of Pemberley of various sizes throughout the estate, but this one was different from any of the others. Usually the paintings of Pemberley showed it to its best advantage, a view of the house and pond. This painting displayed Pemberley in the background as was seen from the back yard. In the lovely gardens he saw those dearest to him enjoying a picnic. He was there, smiling at his wife, who was holding the newest addition to their family, Lawrence. Sitting next to them on one side were Charles and Jane, who was holding baby Laura, and on the other were the newlyweds, Alex and Georgiana. Kitty stood next to her friend, clasping her hands together and throwing her head back in laughter as if she had just heard the funniest joke. Colonel Fitzwilliam had Wendy on his shoulders and they were running after Harry. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were going around in a pony trap. Even dear Mrs. Reynolds was slightly in the distance, walking towards them, carrying the silver tea service. Mr. Darcy was speechless as he walked over to inspect the painting. “How did you ever manage to get this done?” he asked in awe.
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