Ardently

by Caitlin Williams

  “How short, Mr Darcy? Not shockingly short I hope. I told your aunt I was not the sort to run away to Scotland.”

  “No and neither am I, as tempting as the idea might be, but perhaps five, six weeks?”

  She drew away from his neck in order to answer. “I would have no objections.”

  His eyes were on her lips and she thought he might kiss her again but for the approach of a governess with her two small charges. The realisation they were about to be observed caused them, most reluctantly, to detangle themselves. He could not quite let her go completely however and held on tightly to her hand, but moved it to a more discreet position, hiding it behind her skirts and his coat.

  “Might we go inside?”

  She agreed and they walked back to his uncle’s house. He still did not release her hand, even when they were greeted by his valet, who was on the steps, directing the placing of Darcy’s trunks on his carriage. The man smiled and averted his eyes. Once inside, Elizabeth asked to be shown some writing materials and sat down to pen a note, pointing out to Fitzwilliam, for that was how she now hesitatingly addressed him - getting used to the long, rolling sound of it - that his appearance at Longbourn, with such an application to her father, might be received with some bemusement without an accompanying letter from herself.

  As she sat down at the bureau, she nodded towards her hand which he still held. “I am sorry, but I now require the use of this. You may have it back again afterwards.”

  He kissed her fingers before letting her hand go and strolled to the end of the room to lean against the mantelpiece, from where he could watch and admire her.

  She wrote her letter, heated the wax and sealed it in less than five minutes.

  “That was very quick.”

  “It contains all the information it needs to.”

  He crossed the room and knelt next to her chair. He took the note and pocketed it. “I will be gone only a few days. I will miss you every moment but I want everything to be settled, properly. No more obstacles, impediments, delays. Of course, I had not realised I was setting my sights on an heiress. I hope your new found wealth will not complicate matters.”

  She gave him back her hand as promised. “Oh my wealth is quite a distant, unreal thing. I imagine Mrs Mountford raging on until quite a ripe old age. Still, your second heiress, Fitzwilliam! People may talk and say you are a fortune hunter.”

  She had been teasing of course, but he grew serious.

  “May I explain something, about Anne?”

  Elizabeth wished her words had not darkened his mood but was curious as to what he wanted to say. She nodded and raised a hand to stroke his hair, naturally, as if it were a comfort she gave every day.

  “She was with child when I married her.”

  “What?” Elizabeth could not have been more shocked and withdrew her hand.

  “Not with my child,” he added hastily, reaching for the hand she had withdrawn, now holding both of hers between his. “I never did know the truth, she took the secret to her grave, but a member of my aunt’s household left just before her condition became apparent. He was a groom.” He paused giving Elizabeth time to digest this awful information. “Lady Catherine’s solution was to take Anne to London. She tried to marry her off quickly, but Anne was very sick and her figure increased rapidly. It was a ridiculous plan. When I was first taken into Lady Catherine’s confidence, I considered sending Anne off somewhere, to have the child discreetly, but I don’t know how she might have fared on her own. She was not strong enough, and also, she was greatly distressed at the thought of giving the babe away, she was already attached and likely to become more so as her confinement approached.”

  “So you married her?” Elizabeth said in wonderment.

  “What else was I to do? It was why we lived so quietly, behind doors, for so long. Our wedding was a rushed, furtive affair in a church that was empty but for the bride and groom and two witnesses. We did not go to London, or out in any society at all. We hid away.”

  Elizabeth thought of the day her father had read the marriage announcement in the paper and their wondering at why Mr Collins had been so quiet on the subject and it all made sense to her now. “You astound me. Do you mean to say you would have taken the child on, as your heir?” She took her hands from his grasp.

  Darcy shrugged. “It was not to be in any case. The child was born without life. It took not a single breath.”

  On hearing this, Elizabeth’s small frame somehow managed to wrap itself around his much larger one. Her arms gathered him in close. Holding him to her from where he knelt on the floor.

  He spoke into her shoulder. “Why I tell you this is because I wish you to know that she did not love me and while I cared for her, I did not love her either. I could not. How could I possibly love anyone else while Elizabeth Bennet still lived in the world? I have never forgotten you.”

  She held him tighter. “And you may find this difficult to believe but I have never forgotten you either. Do you know I still have your letter, your first letter? It became part of me. I carried it around from place to place. I could not bear to part with it, for reasons I could not fathom at the time.”

  He pulled away a little to look at her. “Why would you treasure such a horrible document? There was one part especially, the opening of it, which I should dread your having the power of reading again. I can remember some expressions which might justifiably make you hate me. When I wrote that letter I believed myself perfectly calm and cool, but I am convinced now that it was written in a dreadful bitterness of spirit.”

  “But the ending, the adieu, was charity itself. The more I read it, the more my prejudices against you were stripped away.”

  “Do you mean to say I might have been successful if I had persevered, addressed you again later? Have we wasted so many years?”

  “No, not wasted. We are different now, time and separation has taught us lessons and we will be stronger for it.”

  “I will make you very happy.” He promised.

  “You already have. I am happier even than Jane and she is the happiest person I know. But she only smiles. I plan to laugh, much.”

  She put a hand under his chin, turning his face up to hers, her eyes silently asking for his kisses. He gave them as he would anything she asked for and they tarried for a good while in the quiet house before he sighed and drew away. “Now, I should walk you back to Laura Place before I completely ruin your reputation. You should not be alone with me here.”

  “Quite so, and without bonnet or gloves or coat, and I daresay with wild hair and flushed cheeks. But surely the scandal would not last, no one would dare speak ill of me once I am Mrs Darcy.”

  Her tone was teasing but the reference to herself as his wife had the effect of increasing the intensity of his look. He put a hand on either side of her face and drew her to him again, kissing her so deeply, so thoroughly as to make her understand a good many things about self-control and how when it came to him – she could not claim to have any.

  Twenty-eight

  Longbourn was a far quieter place than he remembered. Darcy arrived to find the mistress and the only remaining Miss Bennet out visiting and felt a little ashamed of his relief. Mr Bennet was surprised by his presence but received him cordially and showed him into his book room, seemingly without the least suspicion as to his purpose in being there.

  It had taken Darcy a day and half to reach Hertfordshire. He had smartened himself up as best he could at the inn and made for Longbourn without delay.

  He declined both refreshment and a seat. He opened by explaining he had met Elizabeth in Bath and had a note to deliver from her. He passed the piece of folded paper over the desk with a slightly shaking hand.

  Mr Bennet opened the note, scanned it for a much longer period of time than it had taken Elizabeth to pen it, sat down and then looked up at Mr Darcy expectantly.

  “Sir, I have asked Elizabeth to be my wife and am happy to tell you she has accepted me. I trust you will
have no objections. I have the means to support her, she will not want for anything and I can assure you she will be the most beloved and cherished of wives. Due to the comparative nearness of Oakdene to Pemberley, a ceremony and wedding breakfast will be held at one or the other of those houses. We are of a mind to wait only a few weeks, if articles of marriage can be arranged in time. You are welcome to stay at Pemberley. Or I am sure Mrs Mountford would be agreeable to you visiting at Oakdene. Elizabeth, I know, would dearly like you to be present.”

  Mr Bennet stared at him blankly, before asking him again to sit.

  Darcy did take a chair this time. The silence went on for some time. “Do you have an answer for me, sir?”

  “I did not realise you required one, Mr Darcy. It all seems rather settled, what am I to do?”

  Darcy adjusted his cuffs and sat straighter in his chair, a touch offended before he realised his own tone had been imperious. “You will forgive me if I sound too sure of myself. I mean no disrespect. But such is the strength of our attachment. I promise this marriage will take place, Mr Bennet. I am determined, and I think, so is she. She is of an age, of course, where strictly speaking, I do not need your permission, but I hope to gain your approval.”

  “Relax, Mr Darcy, you must let me press something on you.” He poured a glass of port for Darcy and pushed it over towards him. “This letter is dated the day before yesterday, you must be weary. And, whether you have come to seek it or not, you have my permission and my blessing.”

  “Thank you. I am very glad.”

  “I hope you will stay for dinner, for I feel there is much to discuss. My daughter has been a shockingly poor correspondent of late. This note gives me little idea of how matters have progressed to such an interesting state so quickly.”

  “I would not have you think we are rushing into things without good thought, sir. My admiration for Elizabeth has been of a very long duration, since the earliest days of our acquaintance.”

  “Well then, I can only commend you on your excellent taste.”

  Across the room, the curtain twitched. Both men looked towards it.

  “You’ll forgive me, Mr Darcy. I think we have an interloper.”

  There was a tiny giggle from behind the same curtain. Mr Bennet rose from his desk and made a grab at it, causing the giggling to begin again. He then pulled it back to reveal a small girl, with a wild mop of blonde curls that were straining against her hair ribbons. She had large, laughing dark eyes.

  “Come out,” Mr Bennet ordered.

  “No, hiding,” she protested and pulled the curtain back across her.

  Mr Bennet raised his voice slightly and bid her to come out again. His face was stern but Darcy could see the slight crinkles of amusement around his mouth and the adoration in his eyes. When met again with a resounding “no”, he reached inside the curtain and took her hand and led her out. He then looked over at Darcy.

  “Mr Darcy may I present my granddaughter, Miss Elizabeth Turner. What do we do when we meet a gentleman, Elizabeth?”

  Darcy stood in response to her curtsey and returned it with a bow.

  “This is Mr Darcy, who is going to marry your Aunt Lizzy.”

  She stepped forward towards the desk, and rested her tiny forearms on it, then propped her chin upon them and regarded Darcy very seriously. “Where do you live?”

  “Derbyshire.”

  “Is it near London?”

  “No. I cannot say that it is.” Darcy was enchanted. The little girl seemed to be such a delightful mix of the Turner’s outstanding good looks and Elizabeth’s liveliness and charm. It was easy to tell from her expression she was disappointed by his answer and wished her aunt was closer. “But you may come and visit Aunt Lizzy.” He assured her. “I live in a very big house, where there are lots of places to hide and I have a cook who makes very good cake. But I don’t suppose you like cake do you?”

  “I do,” she assured him earnestly. “I do like cake, Mr Darcy.”

  Mr Bennet chuckled and rather than send the child away, he lifted her and set her upon the desk and unclipped his pocket watch for her to play with.

  Darcy relaxed into his chair and both men watched her turn it over in her chubby hands and examine it closely, before working out how to open the intricate fastening. Her face was flushed with success when the casing popped open and the clock face below was revealed to her.

  “It seems each generation of Bennet’s must have a precocious and strong-willed ‘Elizabeth’, Mr Darcy. My sister is an ‘Elizabeth’ too.”

  “Mrs Mountford? I did not know.”

  Mr Bennet nodded. “And, how will you manage your Elizabeth, sir?”

  Darcy shook his head. “I have never wanted a wife who is cowed by me. Her spirits and energy delight me.” He took a glug of the port and then looked at the precious letter he had carried close to his breast across four counties. “May I ask what her note said?”

  Mr Bennet smiled and pushed it across the desk towards him. “You may read it for yourself, Mr Darcy.”

  Darcy opened the note. Pausing only briefly to admire Elizabeth’s fine handwriting, he then read its contents and was surprised to see that other than the opening of ‘Dearest Papa’, and her signature, it contained only three words

  “I love him.”

  Epilogue.

  Georgiana and Mrs Mountford’s voices floated somewhere around the edge of Elizabeth’s consciousness, without hope of success in permeating it, for she was far too focussed on her husband’s neck, or to be more precise, a sweet little spot beneath his left earlobe. She had been married eighteen months, why had she not previously noticed how particularly attractive this small crevice was; how utterly fascinating she found it to watch. If she looked closely, she could see the twitch of his strong jaw every time he swallowed and if she looked closer still, the almost imperceptible beat of his pulse. The temptation to reach up and kiss him in that exact spot was almost overwhelming, and if her dearest aunt and her lovely new sister had not been present, she would have done so without question. Fitzwilliam Darcy would have smiled at her little breach of propriety, sheltered as they were by the cover of the night sky, before sliding his hand beneath the travelling rug to place it atop hers.

  The carriage was bumping over the cobbles, jostling them this way and that way, and she tried to look elsewhere, but her gaze and attention wandered helplessly again to his neck. What a finely put together man he was and how fortunate was she! The sweetness of chance had brought them together again after she had once foolishly cast him aside – oh, how in debt she was to lady luck. Now, if only the rest of the world might disappear for a few moments, in order that she might press her lips to that place below his ear and put her fingers through his dark curls.

  “Are you well?” The deep timber of his voice and his earnest dark gaze made her shiver a little.

  “I am very well.”

  “You are not cold?”

  “Not at all.”

  “I do not like you travelling in this weather.”

  “Tis’ a little light snow, I think it will stop soon. It does not even cover the ground.”

  He made a little noise of disapproval, as if the snow might sense his displeasure and stop upon his orders. “If it does not improve we shall not make the journey to Pemberley, I shall not risk it.”

  “Of course we shall go back to Pemberley, I will not have Christmas anywhere else and we expect guests.”

  “Mr and Mrs Turner?”

  “Jane and Edward, yes,” she replied, smiling a little at his formality. Her husband was such a very proper man. How on earth he had fallen for an often improper woman, such as she, Elizabeth could not fathom.

  The carriage stopped and Mr Darcy sprang from his seat with great alacrity. He waved away the footman and handed Elizabeth down himself, before turning to perform the same service for his sister and Mrs Mountford.

  On the street, Elizabeth pulled her cloak about her more tightly, shielding herself from the biting Dec
ember wind. She hated to think what damage was being done to her elegant coiffure - her hair was unruly enough as it was, a flurry of snow might be its complete undoing! Fortunately, they were outside for only a few moments, just long enough for her to gaze up at the London sky and be briefly mesmerised by the beauty of the scene. Swirling white flakes fell about the stately, luxurious Darcy carriage, as her companions gathered their own cloaks about them. Then there was the imposing, beloved figure of her husband coming towards her with his elbow extended, snow quickly melting on his hat and lapels. She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm and together they ascended the steps of an elegant London townhouse.

  As dearly as Elizabeth had grown to love Pemberley, she had been sequestered there for a good long while with no respite. So now to be in London, at an event that held such promise of pleasure, surrounded by those she loved most dearly, brought forth true feelings of joy and excitement.

  Mr Darcy was in immediate demand, drawn away by some important fellow, to discuss some equally important matter of politics. Elizabeth released herself from his arm with a soft smile, moving instead to Mrs Mountford’s side. They ascended the grand staircase together. Her aunt bent her head closer to Elizabeth’s and glanced briefly at Georgiana, who climbed the stairs ahead of them. Her voice was a rushed whisper, “I am glad Georgiana is here, the Viscountess and I believe she should be introduced to her son.”

  Elizabeth was surprised, “her eldest son, the future Lord Winslow?”

  “Of course, let’s not trifle with anything less. She has much to offer.”

  “I do not think such a high profile match would be right for Georgiana, she is of a sensitive, quiet nature. I beg you to let her sift for herself, she will find her own way.”

  “She will not find her own way, Elizabeth. I think there is a very great danger of her hiding behind your skirts and her brother’s shoulders for the rest of her days, if you allow it.”

  “And why would I not allow it? Mr Darcy and I are happy to have her at home for as long as she chooses to remain there.”