Elizabeth and Darcy both thought this conclusion as inevitable as it was happy, almost from the first moments of their return to Longbourn last summer. As it happened, Mr. Bingley had never given up Netherfield, and upon hearing that Mr. Darcy wished to come again to Hertfordshire, was delighted to open up his house once more for his friend during his few weeks of courtship with Elizabeth. And once Mr. Bingley himself was there, it seemed only natural for him to resume his attentions to the lovely Miss Jane Bennet. Could anything be more perfect than for two such dear friends to wed two sisters?
Though Jane and Mr. Bingley had both asked, somewhat timidly, for Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy to delay their own wedding so as to allow all four of them to be married at once, the latter would not agree. They were wild to wed and did not seem to care a bit about waiting around for such things as wedding clothes and other matters that so concerned Mrs. Bennet.
Mr. Bennet had simply shrugged and observed that with ten thousand pounds a year, and the settlement that Mr. Darcy had offered when he had applied for Elizabeth’s hand, his second daughter was not likely to want for pin money.
Even if she did keep destroying her clothes on the wild rambles that she and her betrothed seemed to take every day of the week. Hertfordshire had not the sublime landscapes of the Swiss Alps, nor even the stark beauty of the Peak District in her soon-to-be home of Derbyshire, but there had remained, apparently, enough places for herself and her intended to get lost in to take them all the way to their wedding. They memorized every slope on Oakham Mount and covered every little field and wilderness within five miles of Longbourn, though their favorite haunt would always remain the field near Lucas Lodge wherein stood the great old yew.
But that was many months ago, and Elizabeth had been far too busy in this latest journey south to get lost on walks with Darcy. Their life at Pemberley was her main joy now. It was in many ways identical to the summer she had spent there with Georgiana, and in other ways completely changed. Still there were the happy evenings listening to Georgiana play music or reading in the library, still the long, glorious expeditions through the woods. And now, to add to each of these delights, there was the constant companionship and conversation with Mr. Darcy, and the pleasure to be found every night within his arms.
By the end of the party, Elizabeth was all too ready to board the carriage to Netherfield with her husband and Georgiana. She was not even certain if she would dine with the others that evening. She was so tired. So strangely tired.
She went up to their room, while Darcy and Georgiana stayed below with Miss Bingley and the Hursts. But instead of lying on the bed, she went to sit by the window. Their room looked out over the hedge maze, flanked by the wide veranda and a set of stone steps that Elizabeth knew all too well. There were bits of frost clinging to the branches, and a white sheen of snow lingered in the shade of the stone.
Another wave of nausea hit her, and she pressed her hand to her stomach, mentally performing a quick calculation.
She gasped.
Oh! Good gracious, she should have guessed. Her mother had warned her—even her father had warned her—of long weeks of illness and confinement five separate times. She’d been so busy thinking of Jane’s wedding and their upcoming journey, it had not even occurred to her.
The door opened at her back and she turned to see her husband standing upon the threshold. Her own, darling Darcy, in the finely cut clothes of a gentleman, but with the sparkle in his eyes that she knew spoke to something far less refined.
“I have come to check on you—but you seem well recovered! Truly, you glow.” He drew closer and she rose to greet him, smiling broadly and reaching out both hands.
“I am not,” she admitted. “Though I am quite reconciled to it, as I do not think I am ill after all.”
“Oh no?” he asked.
“No indeed. It is not illness which has brought me low today. It is another matter completely.”
“Nothing of long duration, I hope.”
“Oh, of very long duration!” she laughed and pressed a hand to her belly. “Though I do hope it shall pay in handsome dividends by summer’s end.”
Darcy’s eyes widened in realization, and he gathered her close for the kind of kiss she knew she would never get enough of.
“But shall we have to postpone our adventures with the Bingleys?” He asked, dismayed, when at last they resumed their conversation. “Is it safe for you to travel?”
“It is safe,” Elizabeth replied, “especially this early. But I am not certain if it shall be pleasant. My mother told me she suffered greatly each time she was with child.”
“Your mother, my darling, has been known to suffer greatly at all times. I should not give too much credence to her account when determining the destiny of your own experience.”
Elizabeth chuckled. “True enough! Perhaps today’s illness was just a consequence of all the excitement. In a few days, I may be fine. I should not like to cancel our plans at this late date, though I am certain that Jane and Mr. Bingley should not fault me for it.”
“I cannot believe it,” said Darcy. “Every day I expect to wake up from this dream.”
She placed a hand upon his cheek. “Oh, but it is not a dream.”
Together, they stood by the window, looking out over the frosty landscape. Darcy slipped his arms about his wife’s waist and pulled her close, and she lay her head upon his chest.
After a few minutes’ contemplation, he spoke. “I have not been able to bring myself to return to those steps.”
“Nor I,” said Elizabeth. “Georgiana once observed to me how strange it is to be grateful for another’s wickedness. And yet, I cannot help but think there was some service in what befell us all last year. The death of Mr. Wickham was a fire we each passed through, and it has made us whole.”
“Yes,” Mr. Darcy agreed. “I hope only that he has found the peace in the hereafter which so eluded him in his life. I pray for him, and treasure most the education I gained in the months after he left us. I am not the man I was then. I loved you, Elizabeth, last year, in this very house. But I would not have made you a good husband. I thought too much of my position in society, and too little for what truly counted.”
“And I, too, was blinded by prejudice. I refused to see how suited we were in every way. It took nearly losing you to tear the scales from my eyes.”
“You were never in danger of losing me. Only I of losing you.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I was in very great danger, sir, of never seeing the man I now know you to be. I, too, am changed forever by our trials. If it made you bolder, it has made me thoughtful. But still, we can meet in the space between. Our wild hearts, tempered by duty to our family and love of our home, can only make for a felicitous future.”
“In all the dreams I ever had, there were none so perfect as this.” He dropped a kiss into her hair. “And now, my dear wife, I think I must declare that you are too ill to dine with the others, and I far too concerned about your condition to come down, either.”
She turned in his arms and looked up at him. “Now that, Mr. Darcy, sounds like a dream come true.”
Also by Gwendolyn Dash
In Darcy’s Debt
In Darcy’s Place
In Darcy’s Arms
Author’s Note
As always, I am grateful for the Austen fans and the writing friends who help me through the tough times: Jackie, Leah, Kyla, Elizabeth, Melanie, Lucy, Carrie, and Sarah. Thank you to Jacki for proofreading, and to Eva for brainstorming, particularly when it came to the monumental decision to actually kill off Mr. Wickham, and explore the aftermath of a world in which that had occurred.
For those curious about the timeline, I use the popular calendar supposing that the events of Pride & Prejudice take place in 1811-1812, which, conveniently, allows for the publication of Byron’s first works and his immediate and subsequent effect on London society. Byron, too, eventually fled England due to scandal, and spent time in Switzerland.
Though the pastime of mountaineering did not become popular among young English gentlemen until slightly later in the century, I thought it would make Darcy’s early adoption of the sport seem all the more shocking and bold.
I would also like to thank all the readers who have followed me along in my variations thus far. It means more than you can possibly know.
Yours always,
Gwendolyn
About the Author
The Confessions of Gwendolyn Dash
The first time I read Pride & Prejudice, I was sixteen. When Mr. Darcy proposed to Lizzy, I was so shocked I fell off the couch.
My video library contains four separate filmed versions of Pride & Prejudice, and that doesn’t include modern retellings or the one with the zombies.
I dressed in a regency gown for my high school prom. To my eternal disappointment, my date did not wear tails.
I own no fewer than six teapots.
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Other Books by Gwendolyn Dash
In Darcy’s Debt
In Darcy’s Place
In Darcy’s Arms
In Darcy's Dreams Page 23