An Unwavering Trust

by L. L. Diamond

  His father tugged his hand from hers and waved it over the bedclothes. Darcy made to explain, but he did not have the opportunity since she grasped his good hand.

  “You will not wave off my thanks,” she argued. “I will have my say.”

  He began to laugh as she huffed and placed her hands on her hips. “Do not laugh at me, Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

  “You could not have expected us to ignore your use of one of Lady Catherine’s favourite phrases! Father is laughing as well.”

  The elder Darcy made a valiant attempt to prevent his shoulders from shaking with mirth, but he could not suppress his amusement.

  Elizabeth’s lips quirked up to one side as his father grasped her hand with his. “amly.”

  She furrowed her brow, so he resumed his concentration on his slate.

  “Family” was all it said, but if Elizabeth was unsure of his meaning, his insistent finger pointing in her direction would dispel all doubt.

  A tear fell to her cheek, and she brushed it away. “Thank you.”

  Darcy swelled with happiness as he watched his wife and son with his father and Georgiana. At one time, he could not have envisioned a greater felicity than he experienced with Elizabeth, but Thomas proved him incorrect.

  His father’s acceptance of his marriage and family served to fill a void created when his mother passed from this earth. Perhaps they were meant to spend those years apart in order to discover one another again?

  Only God knew the answer, but Fitzwilliam Darcy’s heart was fuller than he could have ever imagined. That is until he held his newborn daughter, Rebecca Jane Margaret Darcy a mere five days later—and was besotted once again.

  Epilogue

  14 years later

  Elizabeth Darcy stood before the drawing room window as sixteen year-old Thomas guided his younger brother George on Page. A smile graced her lips at the care her eldest took to ensure his five year-old sibling came to no harm on the aging horse.

  “He is doing very well,” came a familiar deep voice behind her. Fitzwilliam wrapped his arms around her waist, and she leaned back against his strong chest as they continued to observe the scene below.

  “They are both doing well. Thomas is such a considerate elder brother, and George is terribly excited to ride Page.”

  He leaned his chin against her head. “Page’s knees prevent him from being a proper mount for you these days, so it is nice he can still be of use. He will make an excellent horse for George as he learns to ride.”

  “I envy George’s ability to ride him.”

  “I know you do, my love. But we shall find you a new mount that you will enjoy as much as Page.”

  She chuckled and pivoted in his arms. “I know you will leave no stone unturned in your search.”

  “I suppose not.” He first skimmed his lips against hers and then pulled her closer as he deepened his kiss only to be interrupted by the sound of a door as it opened.

  “I told you we should have knocked,” hissed Rebecca.

  Her younger sister Marianne pushed Rebecca aside. “Mrs. Gibbs said Mama was in here alone. Papa is supposed to be working in his study.” Rebecca with a few quick strides overtook her sibling.

  Elizabeth dropped her forehead to her husband’s chest and giggled. “It is a bit late to argue over the matter now. Was there something you girls required?”

  “Marianne claims you are to let Uncle Richard have Longbourn.”

  If Elizabeth had dreams of Rebecca resembling her beloved Jane in personality, they would have died a tragic death long ago. Her eldest daughter was a great deal like herself in so many ways. She was a good elder sister, but she had an innate need to be correct that could be infuriating.

  Her husband stepped back and levelled the girls with a stern expression. “Uncle Richard will reside at Longbourn for as long as he has need of it, but it remains your mother’s property.”

  Richard had returned to the Peninsula several times in the quest to defeat Napoleon and withstood the rigors of war until the Battle of Waterloo where he was gravely injured. After almost losing both his leg and his life, he returned to England.

  For years, he spent time in Bath taking the waters and frequenting the bathhouses for relief. After an offer from the Darcys, he was grateful to move to Longbourn. He was welcome to live out his life there in return for overseeing the property.

  The biggest surprise came when the confirmed bachelor took none other than Charlotte Lucas as his wife in the fall of the previous year. They both cited practical reasons for their union—her age and his infirmity—but those who observed them closely enough could see they had a deep abiding friendship and love.

  “Grandpapa bought Longbourn for Mama, did he not?” asked Marianne, who turned eleven this past winter. She was forever with a list of questions she wanted answered—also not unlike her mother at that age.

  “Yes, your grandfather purchased Longbourn as a gift for your mother.”

  Rebecca glanced to her sister and then to her parents. “But Mr. Peele claims married women cannot own property.”

  Elizabeth closed her eyes and sighed. Mr. Peele, the children’s tutor, had come with excellent references, but she detested his manner. He did not discuss or take exception. Every matter was yes or no: in-between did not exist in Mr. Peele’s world.

  “By law,” began Fitzwilliam in a controlled voice, “your mother cannot own property, but Longbourn became a part of her settlement; she makes any major decisions in regards to the property, and when the time comes, it will be hers to pass down as she chooses. Do you understand?”

  The girls both answered in the affirmative.

  Elizabeth addressed her eldest daughter. “Is Nathaniel still attending his studies with Mr. Peele?”

  Rebecca nodded. “Yes, ma’am, but he dismissed us to the governess.”

  “Mr. Peele said we have no need to learn Latin.” Marianne’s hands landed upon her hips. Elizabeth would wager anything that a question was coming. “Why is that Papa? I speak French, and I am learning Italian. I believe I should like to try Latin.”

  Fitzwilliam’s lips drew to a thin line. “I will have a discussion with Mr. Peele. For now, the two of you shall do as he asks.”

  Elizabeth reached out and pulled Marianne into her arms. As parents, they attempted to have both their daughters and sons educated to the best of their abilities and inclinations. Thomas was on break from Eton, but Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth preferred tutors for the younger boys until they were old enough to join their brother. Both felt the girls received a better education as they were schooled with their brothers, and would remain with tutors rather than sending them to school.

  “If you wish to learn Latin, we will do our best to see to it.” She kissed her daughter’s temple, brushed a curl from her face, and cradled her face in her hands. Whereas Rebecca resembled Elizabeth, Marianne favoured her father with her dark hair and blue eyes.

  “You will find me a tutor for Latin?”

  “We will if you truly wish to learn,” interjected Fitzwilliam.

  Marianne beamed and kissed her mother and father impulsively on the cheeks. “Thank you, Mama! Thank you, Papa!”

  She bounded from the room as Rebecca turned to them. “You would hire a tutor just to teach her Latin?”

  “As we would do for you if you asked.” Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. “Is there something in particular you wish to learn?”

  “I cannot think of anything at present.” Rebecca gazed out the window as she pondered her choices before her regard returned to her parents. “Though, I should like to have more lessons with a music master if it can be arranged.”

  Their eldest daughter had learned to play from Georgiana, but when Georgiana wed the Earl of Bristol in 1816, Rebecca was left without a music teacher. She excelled at music and practiced the pianoforte much as her Aunt Georgie did—she played all day long if afforded the opportunity.

  Georgiana was happy with her life, which made her absence bearable. Rober
t Digby had courted her for a year before she accepted his hand, but no one could deny it was a love match. They were well-suited.

  “I will see what I can arrange.” Fitzwilliam’s lips gave a small lift. He loved to hear her practice and play. He was such a wonderful father! “Perhaps you should ask Aunt Georgiana for help when she and Uncle Robert visit in a fortnight.”

  “Thank you, Papa.” Rebecca stepped forward with a wide grin and hugged her father tightly. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, sweetling.”

  After Rebecca followed her sister out of the door, he turned to Elizabeth. “I wish my father were still alive. He had a way with finding excellent tutors for Georgiana.”

  George Darcy improved after his first bout of apoplexy and lived another eight years before experiencing another, this time fatal, episode. Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth moved to Pemberley not long after Rebecca’s birth, and other than a month or two at Sagemore each summer, had resided at Pemberley ever since.

  Fitzwilliam’s father was not the only loved one to have passed. Grandmamma caught a trifling cold five years prior. The illness progressed to pneumonia within a se’nnight, and she passed a few days later, much to the dismay of those who loved her.

  “What of the husband and wife we interviewed when last in London? He once taught at Oxford and had impeccable references, and she had a great deal of talent at the pianoforte.”

  Fitzwilliam eyed her with a smirk. “Have you been reading my correspondence?”

  She regarded him in a bewildered fashion. Was he teasing, or did he believe she was peeking at his letters?

  He chuckled. “I am teasing. I already sent them a letter a fortnight ago, and received word back this morning. They will accept the position and will arrive at Pemberley at the end of next week.”

  “When will you tell Mr. Peele?” She could not help the almost gleeful tone that escaped.

  “I believe there is no better day than today. I do not appreciate his dismissal of Rebecca and Marianne’s educational wishes. They have as much right to learn as Thomas and Nathaniel.”

  She stepped forward and placed her arms around his neck. “You are a wonderful father.”

  Her fingers traced his temple to brush his curls from his face. There were flecks of silver interspersed in those locks, but he was still as handsome as the day he stepped into her uncle’s parlour.

  He smiled and rested his head against her curls. “Well, I happen to adore my educated wife, so it only stands to reason I would wish to educate my daughters.”

  Elizabeth laughed and shook her head. “Still the flatterer.”

  He laughed and traced his fingers down her cheek. “I was not always proficient in the ways of flattery. Do not forget that Grandmamma had to show me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased."

  “She was only required to do so once, my dear. You proved you did not require further chastising.”

  “I should never have needed such a scolding in the first place! I was intimidated by what I felt and overwhelmed by your beauty. I found myself terrified I would love you and you would never love me.”

  “Were you really?”

  Over the years, they had discussed their feelings and when they both began to recognise the love they had for one another, but he had never divulged so much about the time they were betrothed. “You had no reason to be concerned. I was already in a fair way of falling in love with you.”

  “You were?” He wore such a smug, infuriating grin.

  “No.” Her tone remained casual. He would pay for his pride! “I thought you insufferable and arrogant.”

  His face fell as he stared for a moment. He appeared as though he would release her until he tightened his grasp and began to tickle her sides.

  She laughed uncontrollably until he halted. “You thought me insufferable?” His fingers sat poised to continue the assault.

  “I thought you handsome, but I did not understand why you stared at me so. What I wanted was for you to behave as you did in my uncle’s parlour. I desired your notice, sir.”

  He pressed a kiss under her ear. “I should go write the new tutors so they are aware I have received their acceptance.” Another quick kiss was deposited upon her lips. “Did you read the letter I left upon your desk?”

  “Yes, Uncle Gardiner has done well for himself.”

  “Well? He owns a large farm, is married, and has four children. He has done very well.”

  She was pleased her uncle had found such success, but she could not imagine a relationship with him after all these years, not after so much betrayal on his part.

  The true relief had been five years prior when the Duke of Cumbria had challenged Carlisle to a duel, which Carlisle had won, shooting the duke in the heart; however, Carlisle received a wound to the shoulder. The wound festered, and within a fortnight, Thomas Grayson was no more.

  Rumours abounded for months after the scandal. Viscount Carlisle’s nefarious schemes were never unearthed, but those who were intimate with both parties indicated Carlisle had dallied with the duke’s mistress. Fitzwilliam undoubtedly knew more, but she had no desire to unearth Carlisle and the duke’s depravity.

  “It was good of him to apologise.” Fitzwilliam’s voice pulled her from her memories.

  “If you wonder whether I will return the letter, I have written a reply in which I forgive him. I wish him well, but I have no reason to believe he will desire a continued correspondence.”

  He held her in the solid embrace of his arms. “I love you.”

  She gave him a quick peck on the chin. “And I love you.”

  With a step back, he gave her hand one last squeeze. “Then I shall pen a letter to the new tutors, and another to a breeder to inquire after a horse for you.”

  His swift stride had him almost to the door when she called his name. He faced her with a questioning countenance.

  “You need not hasten to find me a mount. I shall not be riding much for the next year anyhow.”

  She bit her bottom lip, examining his features as she awaited his comprehension.

  He paused, furrowed his brows, and then his eyes widened. “You mean?”

  She nodded and giggled at his elated expression.

  “After all this time?” he said with wonder. “I assumed… ”

  “You assumed it was improbable we would be blessed again.”

  “I did.” He pulled her forward into his arms and rested a hand on her stomach. “Do you have a preference for a girl or a boy?”

  “In the beginning, all I wanted was to have a boy who resembled you, and now I have two.” She shrugged with a smile thinking of Thomas and Nathaniel, who both bore such a strong likeness to their father, whereas George resembled his grandfather Bennet. “I do not have a preference this time. As long as he or she is healthy.”

  He held her close and stroked his hand up and down her back. “I want another little girl just like you.”

  She let out a bark of laughter. “Be careful! Rebecca and Marianne have you wrapped around their little fingers. A third little girl might put us into ruin.”

  “Did you think when I offered you marriage we would be where we are today?” He placed a kiss to her forehead.

  “I did.”

  He drew back and studied her with a confounded look. “You did?”

  “I had to trust in our decision—I had to trust in you. I would not have survived the experience otherwise.”

  “You never lost faith in me?”

  She placed her hands on his cheeks and stared straight into his eyes. “Never,” she said emphatically. “And I never will.”

  About the Author

  L.L. Diamond is more commonly known as Leslie to her friends and Mom to her three children. A native of Louisiana, she has spent the majority of her life living within an hour of New Orleans until she vowed to follow her husband to the ends of the earth as a military wife. Louisiana, Mississippi, California, Texas, New Mexico, Nebraska,
and now England have all been called home along the way.

  After watching Sense and Sensibility with her mother, Leslie became a fan of Jane Austen, reading her collected works over the next few years. Pride and Prejudice stood out as a favourite and has dominated her writing since finding Jane Austen Fan Fiction.

  Aside from mother and writer, Leslie considers herself a perpetual student. She has degrees in biology and studio art, but will devour any subject of interest simply for the knowledge. As an artist, her concentration is in graphic design, but watercolour is her medium of choice with one of her watercolours featured on the cover of her second book, A Matter of Chance. She also plays flute and piano, but much like Elizabeth Bennet, she is always in need of practice!

  You can follow Leslie at:

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LLDiamond

  Twitter: @LLDiamond2

  Blog: http://lldiamondwrites.com/

  Austen Variations: http://austenvariations.com/