“Oh,” Elizabeth’s face shone as she looked back up into his eyes, “I think you can be the one to say.”
“Whatever is your pleasure, Miss Elizabeth, that is my dearest wish.” And he turned to Jane and Mr. Bingley. “So I hope you will not object to holding your wedding ceremony in the chapel here at Pemberley. If you agree, we will make arrangements to have it be a double ceremony. Miss Elizabeth Bennet has kindly condescended to be my wife and I want the ceremony to be arranged most urgently.”
People all around called and clapped and a thunder of applause shook the massive room. The small orchestra on the far side struck up a merry tune and everyone danced with joy in their steps.
The joy in Miss Bingley’s steps may have been less obviously apparent as she asked very directly, “When will these joyful weddings be? What is to be the happy date?”
Mr. Darcy smiled then. “But, Miss Bingley,” he said, “I have always thought of you as such an adept at the card tables. Yet it seems you may have tipped your hand.”
27
After the joyous double wedding, the colonel and Georgiana and the two couples all drank champagne to each others’ health. The subject of Mr. Wickham would not be broached directly but Mr. Bingley said, without naming him, “And now my sister has said that she will hold that man to a proposal of marriage that he made to her.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam asked, “Did he propose to her?”
“She claims that he did. On the night of the ball.”
Darcy was not going to allow the subject to blunt his happiness. He said, “That surely could not be. Miss Caroline was here and he most certainly was not invited to the ball. All of the staff of Pemberley are under strict instructions to remove or eject him from the premises on sight and in as inhospitable a manner as is possible. Preferably with the free use of either weapons or gardening tools.”
Mr. Bingley declared, “She claims that he sneaked into the grounds and that they met. In the cherry orchard, in fact. And that there he proposed to her.”
The colonel took another draught of champagne. “Thinking that he would gain the inheritance, no doubt.”
“No doubt,” Mr. Bingley smiled, “but now she wishes to see him suffer for it.”
Darcy chuckled, “Wishing no offense to yourself, my dear friend, but if your sister holds him to a proposal of marriage, he will suffer long and hard.”
Mr. Bingley laughed, “She would treat him like a dog and keep him penniless for life.” He raised his glass again and said, “Caroline on a path of vengeance is not a sight that any man should have to wake up to.” Bingley shuddered.
"Well, any other man." With a lethal gleam in his eye, Mr. Darcy said, "I am not nearly so kind as you, my dear friend."
Drawing Elizabeth aside, his voice was velvety as he said, “I hope you won’t be too weary from the efforts of the day to have some enjoyment of our apartments.”
“Our ‘apartments’? You make it sound as though we will be very distant. I wouldn’t like that, Mr. Darcy.”
“Not at all. They are adjoining apartments. Connected by private doors.”
“But will we stay each in our own apartment?”
“Only when we want to. You will want to dress and change, you may want privacy for your toilette and when you bathe.”
“I’m not sure that I will want any privacy from you at all, Mr. Darcy.”
His arm squeezed her closer to him. “You don’t have to keep on calling me that. Not now.”
“No. But I like it. I think I shall continue, except for when we are very much in private.”
“Then I will have to ensure that we spend much of our time, very much in private together.”
In the soft afternoon sun, they took some picnic treats out into the grounds and along the passages in the high privets to the central chamber.
Mrs. Jane Bingley sat close alongside her new husband and, further along the bench under the pergola, Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy sat in a glow of delighted contentment next to Fitzwilliam Darcy, her new husband and master. Next to the smiling Mr. Darcy on the other side sat Georgiana.
Colonel Fitzwilliam told the tale as he painted.
“I have given a great deal of thought to the matter, and I believe it happened much like this. When Mr. Darcy senior finally met his match in that last cruel illness, Mr. Wickham enjoyed the hospitality of Pemberley, of which he was deprived for so long – Miss Georgiana, forgive me. I will tell the tale another time.”
“No,” Georgiana said brightly, “I am quite recovered in every way. If George Wickham were to prostrate himself here in front of me now and beg my forgiveness, my only regret would be that I neglected to wear sharper heels or shoes with running tacks, as I used him as a footstool. Please continue, Colonel. I am anxious to know.”
“Thank you, Georgiana. It is so good to have you restored to us.”
They all smiled and Richard continued.
“Mr. Wickham saw his chance, I believe, in Mr. Darcy’s commitment to the cause of the suffrage and emancipation of women. It must have been an expensive undertaking because while Mr. Darcy would be unstinting in his generosity with his cellar, he would be unerringly ruthless at the card table, as I learned to my own cost, more than once.”
Richard cleaned his brush and set it down to take up another, smaller one. “The cost to Mr. Wickham will have been high. All those evenings at the table with Mr. Darcy will have scooped deep into his pockets, but he played a long game and he knew his man. He would have had to plant the idea in Mr. Darcy’s head and wait for it to emerge as Mr. Darcy’s own inspiration. I am sure that it will have gone something like this, late in the night, with Mr. Wickham saying,
“Your words of commitment to the rights of emancipation for women are creditable, sir. But you and I know that you don’t really mean any of it.
George Wickham helped himself and his generous host to another serving of cognac. He raised his recharged snifter and toasted, “You are well-meaning, I don’t doubt it for a moment, and as good-hearted a fellow as ever drew breath, but you would not take a meaningful step on the issue.”
“Don’t know what you mean. If my estate were to fall to the inheritance of a woman, I should not raise an objection.”
“But it will not, sir. Your son is in rude health and there is practically no risk of his birthright passing to his younger sister. What you express are fine enough sentiments. Big declarations are easy enough to make when you know there’s no danger of them being tested.”
Wickham dealt another hand and stole quick glances at the older man and watched as he sorted his cards. The notion was taking hold in the great man’s mind, George was sure of it. He would bide his time. He sat back out of the pool of light and spread and arranged the cards in his own hand.
George Wickham knew that he could take this hand without difficulty. He easily had the value in cards, just as he had from the last deal. Once again, as it was in the last hand, his challenge going to be to lose the hand without tipping the older man’s suspicions but George was playing a long game.
He could not afford to lose a significant amount at this table or any other, but his objective would not be hurried. He would risk failure and the highest stakes imaginable hung on his handling of the stratagem. The idea would need to develop in the old man’s mind. The bold conclusion would have come out of his initiative, or at least he would need to believe that it did.
The skill of taking such a huge matter so very lightly was a finely balanced feat and a performance with an audience of only one. The thrill of building the man’s confidence, of leading and guiding him to the precipice in such a way that the old man would be inspired by the chasm and by the leap.
“However it was brought about, I was sure that somebody waited in the carriage when Mr. Darcy came to me to insist that his will be altered. Of course, I became sure that it will have been Mr. Wickham.
“When Mr. Darcy senior came to me that first time, he was determined that the estate should pass almost entirely to the ben
efit of Miss Georgiana. He said that he was resolved to make his will to favor his commitment to the emancipation of women. This was all before the young lady fell so tragically ill.
“Not so tragic,” Georgiana beamed.
“Tragic that we were deprived of you,” Darcy ruffled her hair gently.
Elizabeth squeezed his arm, “Tragic that you were so fearful. You keep all of your suffering manfully hidden, but you can allow it to be known. Especially now it is all over.”
“And thanks to you, sister in law!” Georgiana reached across to hug her.
“Now, good people,” Colonel Fitzwilliam chided playfully, “Do not lose your places.” He returned to his painting and at the same time, to his narrative. “the variation in the will would also serve as a lesson, as Mr. Darcy said, to teach Mr. Darcy the younger to ‘buck his ideas up.’ He said that he despaired of young Mr. Darcy ever settling to marry. If he were not married by his twenty-fifth birthday, then the trusteeship of the entire estate would be in the hands of Miss Caroline Bingley until Georgiana attained majority.”
Elizabeth, Jane, and Mr. Bingley all drew breath very sharply. Elizabeth looked up to her husband, “this was the secret you had to keep to yourself? Knowing that poor Georgiana’s sickness could be the cause of you losing control of the estate to Miss Bingley?”
His voice was grave. “That was not the worst of it.
Richard nodded. “The later codicil provided that, if Miss Bingley then married before Mr. Darcy, that the entire estate would pass to her and remain hers.”
Jane was dumbstruck. Elizabeth asked the colonel, “Did Miss Bingley know about any of this?”
“She almost certainly did not, Mrs. Darcy.” Elizabeth felt a trickle of thrill whenever she heard herself addressed in that way. “No, I am sure that she did not. But I believe that the one person who knows every line is that man who may have had a hefty hand in drafting the terms. Mr. Wickham. And I was aware that he became extremely attentive to Miss Bingley very soon afterward, but that is not what aroused my suspicions. I was alerted and my worst fears were amplified when a colleague came to ask my opinion about a matter of matrimonial law, concerning a husband’s rights over the property of a wife. Inherited property in particular.”
“So, he was attempting to marry her, simply so that he could have Pemberley from her.”
“Exactly, Mrs. Darcy.”
Elizabeth was not certain that Miss Bingley had been entirely as innocent as the colonel believed, but she did not press the point.
What she did know was that with her sister Jane, her newest and best friend, her new sister Georgiana, and she herself, they must surely have been the three happiest women in the world.
And, when it was done, they were all happy to share what must surely have been the best double wedding portrait ever made.
28
Darcy led them all the way around to the front of the great house. Jane and her new husband Mr. Bingley wondered why, but Elizabeth was sure that she knew. Georgiana and the colonel stayed quiet on the subject. Elizabeth expected Darcy planned to raise her up and carry her into the house, across the threshold of the main entrance doors to Pemberley.
She was surprised when he waited for her at the foot of the massive stone stairway. Her breath fluttered in her chest to see his eyes ablaze and his great hands outstretched. He looked as if he could consume her on the spot. As he spread his hands, she knew that he would take her and lift her to carry her all the way up the steps to the threshold.
His. His wife, his new bride. Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy. When she felt the strength of his hands take hold of her, she trembled and her knees turned watery as if they would melt and give way.
When she hesitated he swept her up and the breath left her completely. She felt tiny in his arms, like a little bird. When he lifted her, and his raw strength was doubly thrilling as it was blended with his gentle care. With her in his arms, he bounded up the steps to the house as though she weighed no more than a doll. His eyes held her as if he had found the greatest treasure in the world.
Inside the house, his boots beat out an echoing tattoo across the hallway and he took the grand staircase, two steps at a time, up to the second floor.
Footmen and two blushing maids stood by the wide double doors of the master and mistress apartments. Keeping her in his arms, he told the staff they would not be needed, in a voice that was firm but kind. Almost gentle. His real gentleness, he saved for when they were inside.
He carried Elizabeth into the master apartment. “This is to let you know for certain, that this suite is yours, as much as any square, any tile, any brick in the whole house. Anything you see? It belongs to you. Do with it as you will.”
He set her down and she turned to face him, “What about this?” she touched her forefinger to his chest, startling herself with her own daring as she looked up into his eyes, “Does this belong to me?”
“Especially this. This is yours. I am yours. All yours.” He clasped her hand to him. Held it against his chest. “And I insist that you do with me exactly as you wish.”
“What I most wish,” she bit the side of her lip, “Is for you to do what you will. With me.”
“I shall,” His kiss was firm, deep and long as he enfolded her. His heat and strength transported her. As she shared his breath their hearts pounded together.
“I want to make you fully Mrs. Darcy.”
“Please, William, do.”
When she said his name he swelled and rose. He grew. “My Elizabeth. My love.”
“Yes, William.”
“Be mine. Be fully mine.”
"Yes, William."
“With my body, I thee worship.”
“Oh, yes, William.”
“Urgently.”
“Yes. Yes. Urgently, Darcy!”
Afterword
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“It is a truth universally acknowledged,” the bustling lady guardian told her young charges, over the clatter of the stagecoach and the thunder of the horses' hooves, “that a young man in possession of a good parcel of land must be in want of a fresh young bride.”
* * *
As the weekly stagecoach heads into Pemberdale, Wyoming, it carries on board the hopes of the men of Meryton. All the way from Saint Louis, shaken and weary from many days of travel, the five Bennet sisters are about to embark on a tumultuous sequence of adventure and mishap that will take their reputations and their futures into perils that no-one would have predicted.
* * *
From a ridge, high on his gray Arabian, Fitzwilliam Darcy watches the arrival of the stage with mixed feelings. He wishes the best for the fortunes of the townsfolk, and for his friend Charles Bingley, but he holds no such optimistic hope of the stage bringing a suitable bride for himself.
* * *
But as a tall and slender, dark-haired young woman descends from the coach and glances up, Mr. Darcy’s heart pounds and he feels the hand of fate touch his shoulder.
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Romance and love beckon, and in many guises, but who will answer the calls call?
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This Mail Order Brides and Prejudice novella is a sweet and clean Pride and Prejudice variation. Vividly conjuring the ways that the characters from Jane Austen’s classic novel might fare, transplanted into the pioneering West of 1870, this re-imagining is a fast read. Thirty-six thousand words have been lovingly crafted to delight enthusiasts of the romantic canon and newcomers alike.
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This complete, standalone story is a romantic refreshment like no other. Read it today
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Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t. But not when Miss Bingley is involved.
Darcy knows he must marry, and very soon.
But what sort of lady would agree to marry a man at first meeting?
* * *
Elizabeth Bennet is struggling to support her family at a time when governess situations are hard to keep and harder to find.
A way out is offered.
But what sort of man is willing to make an offer of marriage to a lady chosen by his family — especially to a lady whose sister has ruined them all?
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And can love ever bloom from mere expediency?
Forever, Darcy is a sweet and clean quick read Regency novella of around 32,000 words
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And, coming very soon:
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Darcy is incensed by Lady Catherine’s actions aimed at forcing him to marry her daughter.
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He chooses a drastic subterfuge, but has he thought through all of the dangers?
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Elizabeth Bennet needs to take drastic action to escape the unwanted attention and verbal venom of Mr. Collins. Jane’s solution seems to offer this — and an interesting adventure, to boot. After all, she can change her mind at any time before committing to marry a gentleman who seeks a bride by letter.
Urgently, Darcy Page 12