An Arranged Marriage

by Jan Hahn

  Unfortunately, it is highly unlikely I will return to Pemberley in time for the Harvest Ball. Please relay this message to Georgiana.

  And now to another matter, of which I hesitate to write, but feel that I must, for I cannot account for the coldness of your manner upon your departure, except to believe that my behaviour of the previous night must have been unwelcome, and for that lapse on my part, I offer my apologies. I would likewise extend my regrets, but in all honesty, I cannot find any such feelings in my heart.

  FD

  I read the letter through twice, and the last sentence over and over. When I could no longer see it through the mist of tears filling my eyes, I traced its outline with my fingers. Did it mean what I thought it might, that Mr. Darcy did not regret kissing me? "Oh!" I cried aloud and began to sob. I had not known how much I needed to hear those words, what release it caused within me to read that simple phrase.

  ~ * ~

  The day of the Harvest Ball arrived before we knew it. A beautiful Friday in late autumn, the weather crisp but not truly cold, and with a full moon expected that night, the day could not have been more perfect. The morning was filled with last minute tasks for both Georgiana and me, but Mrs. Reynolds suggested that both of us take time for a nap that afternoon in anticipation of the evening ahead. I felt quite certain that Georgiana needed little refreshing, for she was aglow with longing for the ball's beginning. However, we did heed our housekeeper's motherly admonition and retired to our bedchambers for a couple of hours.

  Slipping off my shoes, I lay upon the bed, and pulled up a quilt from the bottom to cover my bare feet. I plumped my pillow and in so doing, felt Mr. Darcy's letter beneath it, where I had kept it since the day of its receipt. I took it out once more, read it again, and then held it close to my heart. I had not answered the letter, the reason why I am still unsure of to this day. What could I say? How could I make him understand all that was in my heart when last I saw him? And, in truth, how could I bear to confess my ugly suspicions about Fiona and him? No, I refused to put all that in a letter, and so I did not write.

  Sarah, my maid, tapped at the door some two hours later and I bid her entrance, for I was awake. I had not slept at all, but I had remained upon the bed, attempting to rest. The remainder of the afternoon was spent in my bath, coiffing my hair, and donning my dress, a lovely pale green silk. The deeply scooped neckline flattered my bosom and I elected to wear only my garnet cross for enhancement. These were simple folk and I felt no desire to impress them with the black pearl Mr. Darcy had bestowed upon me.

  At last, I was ready and I hurried below stairs to find Georgiana and Richard in the drawing room. She was lovely in a pale cream gown, tiny blooms scattered through her golden hair, and a radiant glow upon her countenance.

  "Elizabeth, look what Richard has just given me," she cried.

  I saw the delicate chain of pearls nestled around her slender throat. "They are beautiful, Georgiana. Well done, Richard."

  He beamed at her pleasure. "Pearls are for grown-up ladies, Sprout. See that you remember that."

  "Oh, Richard, must you spoil my joy with another reprimand?"

  "In your brother's absence, I feel compelled to offer the admonition I feel certain he would tender."

  "I am no longer a child, you know." She smiled as she said these words and he bowed in response.

  "So I see, my dear. You have grown up before my very eyes."

  Through the window I could see carts and wagons approach Pemberley's rear park. I watched as entire families descended: mothers attempted to curtail their boisterous children, fathers straightened their neck cloths and brushed off their coats, all of them apparently excited about the evening awaiting them. The colonel suggested we make our way to the great hall and so we did.

  The room was already filled with people and conversation. The musicians tuned their instruments, and servants scurried here and there with their huge platters of food and pitchers of mead, ale and wine. Georgiana immediately waded into the throng and welcomed each person, obviously acquainted with them. Again, I was amazed with what ease she served as princess over this kingdom. She was completely at home with Pemberley's tenants. Colonel Fitzwilliam led me to sit at the center of the head table where Georgiana eventually joined us. A short while later, he stood and tapped his fork against his glass of wine, a signal that quieted the crowd.

  "Neighbours and tenants of Pemberley! On behalf of my cousin, Mr. Darcy, I welcome you to this belated harvest ball. He regrets most heartily that he is unable to join you tonight, but he would have me stand in his stead. Miss Darcy and I ask you to raise your glasses in a toast to the new mistress of Pemberley, Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy."

  "Hear, hear!" The clamor of the crowd was friendly and approving and I smiled and nodded in response.

  "Mr. Darcy bade me assure you that even though unforeseen events have caused his extended absence from Pemberley for much of this year, all shall remain as it is. There will be stability. There will be continuity. And you are to be commended for your hard work in once again reaping a successful harvest. I offer a toast to each of you."

  "Hear, hear!" the crowd rejoined again, "And to Mr. Darcy."

  "Now, eat, drink and dance. Musicians, give us a song!"

  There was much cheering and excitement as various couples lined up for the first country dance. So many of the tenants approached me in greeting that I entreated Georgiana to take my place and begin the dance with Richard. It did my heart good to see the happiness upon her face. Her eyes sparkled and a smile graced her countenance for the entire length of the reel, as well as the next, for the colonel led her right back to the floor with the beginning of the following number.

  I spent no little time greeting guests and acknowledging their best wishes on my marriage. There were naught but friendly faces among the entire throng as far as I could see, and the only damper to my enjoyment was the thought of how much more wonderful the evening might be if Mr. Darcy stood by my side and if we were married in every sense. I missed him more that night than I ever had before.

  Richard asked me to dance the next, a number I thoroughly enjoyed. The dances were much more lively than those conducted at Netherfield or Eden Park with their stiff formality, for these were country folk, after all. I found myself comparing them to the assembly balls held at Meryton, for they were much alike, and I experienced a slight yearning in my heart for those old days now past.

  Halfway through the evening, the musicians rested and the principal meal was served. People had nibbled and drank throughout the night, but they now found seats at the tables and partook of the generous bounty Pemberley provided. Laughter and talk filled the room and I rejoiced to see Georgiana's continued smiles. Richard sat between us at the head table and teased her persistently, which she bore quite well.

  It was just after dinner that he asked me to dance again. I protested and suggested Georgiana take my place, but she begged off. She wished to gather the children into a circle up front near the door and play a game of "Drop the Handkerchief." And so I accepted the colonel's invitation and we led the next dance, which lasted a good half-hour. By the time the final notes sounded, we found ourselves at the bottom of the line of dancers. I was quite flushed from the exercise, but beamed with the joy of it all. As Richard escorted me from the floor, a commotion broke out across the length of the great room, and a roar of cheering and applause erupted. There was such a company of people blocking my view that I was at a loss to explain its cause. And then I heard Richard's exclamation.

  "Why, it's Darcy! He is come after all."

  I stood at the end of the long table on a side of the room closest to the servant's entrance, and I was thankful for the sturdiness of the furniture, for I felt an urgent need to lean upon it for support.

  Mr. Darcy!

  The crowd parted and I could see him there. Surely, it was my heart that suddenly leaped into my throat and threatened to bar all future breathing. I gasped for air and struggled to still my vi
sibly heaving bosom.

  Shrugging off his great coat and dropping it, along with his hat into the hands of a nearby servant, he raised his head and saw me. His gaze was severe; his eyes never wavered from mine, as though we were somehow locked together for all time. A mug of ale was thrust into his hands; he took a brief swallow without giving it a glance and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, never once taking his eyes from mine. Various men shook his hand and I saw him nod without looking at them. Even when Georgiana ran up and kissed his cheek, he put his arm around her shoulder in a brief embrace without ever breaking his gaze upon me. And all the while he walked toward me, narrowing the distance between us with determined rapidity. I, unknowingly, began to walk backward, until there was no longer a table on which to hold, and I found myself at the doorway that led from the hall to the kitchen outside. I clutched the molding for support, my hands behind me, icy cold.

  "Ah, the master sees his bride."

  "At last they are to be reunited."

  I heard those and similar remarks made by the crowd and from the corner of my eye, I could see some of them elbow each other and laugh, not coarsely but rather in an approving manner.

  "Shall you and Mrs. Darcy not lead the next dance, sir?" one of the men called forth, with added encouragement from several others.

  "Not yet," Mr. Darcy said, advancing toward me all the while, "not until I have greeted my wife in a proper manner." This produced laughter and knowing looks between the tenants. Still, he walked steadfastly toward me, and I could see the grimness about his mouth and fire in his eyes. As unobtrusively as possible, I turned and walked through the door, steeling myself to appear perfectly calm and dignified.

  "Ah, she wants to greet him in private," I heard someone say. However, the moment I could no longer be seen by our guests, I turned and fled. To this day I cannot tell you why I ran, only that I did. Sometimes I think I ran not only from Mr. Darcy, but from myself.

  I barely missed colliding with a serving girl carrying a huge pitcher and another who walked behind her with a tray of goblets. I stepped to the side quickly and ran out into the night. Frantically, I searched for some place to hide, some provision of escape, when I heard Mr. Darcy's voice call out, "Elizabeth!"

  I glanced over my shoulder and saw him gaining upon me. I ran faster and faster until I found myself inside the stable, recognizing my whereabouts only by the combined odors of horses, oats and fresh hay. I darted along the stalls, stumbling over a saddle and harness in the dark. Up ahead I could see the back door of the shelter standing open and so I ran toward it, hurrying out the other side where I once more felt the coolness of the evening fan my face.

  "Elizabeth!" he called my name again and I knew then that I could not outrun him, for he was right behind me. He reached out and caught my hand, turned me around, and forced me to face him. Bales of hay stacked just outside the stable stood guard like silent sentinels and I remember my knees giving way and sinking down upon a mound of fresh hay not yet bound, and seeing Mr. Darcy all about me in the moonlight.

  He took my face in his hands; ferocity shone forth from his eyes as he stared into mine. It seemed as though he peered deep enough to see all the way through my heart, down into my inner most being. "Elizabeth," he said again, this time in a sort of groan, his breath coming short and fast, "Why?"

  And then his mouth sought mine with fervent urgency and my lips parted. I welcomed his kiss with all that was within me. I felt his body hard against mine as he gathered me into his arms, and when he deepened the kiss, my hands suddenly encircled his neck, his shoulders, clasping him to me as a dying woman clings to life. I fell back against the hay and he fell with me. His lips released mine and then claimed them again and, at last searched hungrily over my cheek, my ear, and down my neck, his hands moving about my face, my shoulders, my arms and back, until at last, he groaned my name again and broke away.

  Our breathing came hard and fast. At first he said nothing, just continued to stare into my eyes, but then he put his hand to his mouth in that manner I knew so well as a signal of agitation, and shaking his head, he stood up.

  "Why?" he cried out. "Why, Elizabeth? Tell me why!" He walked away from me and turned his back, obviously striving for composure. "Not one word. Not one word from you in four weeks!"

  I made no utterance; indeed, I doubted that I possessed enough sense to form a complete sentence at the time.

  "Could you not take pity on me and at least advise me that you had reached Derbyshire safely?"

  I looked down at my hands. I opened my mouth to speak, but as I feared, nothing came forth. Finally, I managed to utter something about Georgiana's correspondence, but that would not satisfy him.

  "And so you leave your duties to my sister, do you? Well, thank God, she has some compassion on me."

  "I...I knew that you and Richard also kept in touch," I said somewhat lamely.

  He whirled around then as though I had struck him. "Richard? You now call Fitzwilliam by his given name, do you?"

  I swallowed, feeling guilty but not knowing why. "We...we are cousins, are we not?"

  "And what are we, Elizabeth?" he demanded, once more leaning over me, his face so close that I had to shrink away from him in order to focus my eyes. "Are we not husband and wife, married these many weeks, and yet I am still no more to you than 'Mr. Darcy,' while my cousin, it appears, enjoys a closer familiarity with you than I do?"

  "No," I said softly, reaching up and placing my hand upon his cheek. "No, he does not. I am your wife...William."

  With those words, I saw the strain in his face begin to melt and once again I was in his arms and he began to kiss me anew, our desire for each other impossible to contain. Again and again, we sought each other's mouth. My hands roamed from his face to his thick curls, while I felt his arms encircle my waist, the strength of his hands in the middle of my back, as he pulled me closer and closer. We continued no little time in this manner until neither of us could breathe. Parting was necessary, at least for a moment, or we would have collapsed for lack of air. At length, he stood and taking my hands, pulled me to my feet.

  "I have so many questions," he said.

  "As do I," I whispered.

  "This is not the time, however."

  "No, we should return. Are we not obliged to our guests?"

  When he sighed and nodded, I ran my hand across my mouth, hoping to erase any signs of our passion. I smoothed my skirt before my husband took my hand and led me back through the stable and to the rear entrance of the great hall. He stopped just outside and turned me toward him. I raised my head to see the full moon illuminate part of his countenance, the other still in shadow.

  "You cannot go in like this, Mrs. Darcy."

  "Sir?"

  He smiled as he reached up and began to pluck bits of hay from my curls. "If you enter the room like this, I fear our guests will know exactly what we have been up to." He then turned me around and brushed off the hay from the back of my gown, a task which he seemed to apply himself to with great relish and which caused my breathing to once again become somewhat laboured.

  Inside, we were met with cheers and more knowing winks and comments than I cared to acknowledge. It did not bother me, though, for I was wildly happy as Mr. Darcy escorted me to the head of the line and we led the next dance and the next and the next.

  "You have surprised me many times in the past, sir," I said when we finally sat down, "but never like this. I knew you were proficient in a ballroom, but I had not the slightest idea you were such a country dancer."

  "Any savage can dance," he said, cocking one eyebrow while his eyes rambled from my lips to my neck and below, "even this one."

  Chapter 12

  It was after two in the morning before the Harvest Ball ended. It might as well have been noon on the day before, for I was not tired in the least. No, I was far too exhilarated by the evening's activities and, in truth, by the sheer presence of Mr. Darcy. During the weeks we had been apart, I had almost forgot
ten how great an effect his appearance wrought upon my emotions. Tonight, however, I had learned in the most beguiling manner that his company ruled my feelings.

  At the close of the ball, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy escorted Georgiana and me to the foot of the great staircase in the center of the house, whereupon Mr. Darcy suggested that his sister retire.

  "I shall never sleep, Wills," she declared, kissing him on the cheek, "for I am still aglow with excitement. And I am so glad you are home and without a sign of London's illness that you feared would ravage Elizabeth and me."

  "I told you Darce was far too fierce for any sickness to conquer him," the colonel reiterated.

  "Yes," Mr. Darcy said, looking at me, "it takes something much more powerful to take me down. Now, go along, Georgiana; it is late." She bid each of us goodnight and then reached out and hugged me, an unusual gesture on her part, but one that I welcomed. I watched her climb the stairs and marveled at how close we had grown in the last month. She had truly become my sister and I loved her.

  As soon as she was out of hearing range, Mr. Darcy indicated that the colonel and I should join him in the drawing room. Upon entering, Richard immediately asked him about the situation in London and whether the crime had been solved.

  "Is Georgiana no longer in danger?" I added.

  He said that I was correct, the former stable hand had been discovered and he was in custody along with Mrs. Younge and Johnny. Mr. Darcy's original suspicions had proved true. During a visit to Mrs. Younge by Johnny and his friend from the stable, they had complained to her of Mr. Darcy's unfair treatment and received a sympathetic ear. Johnny then told her how he overheard Lady Catherine's outburst the day she threatened Mr. Darcy, and all three of them had rejoiced to see this break in his family. Neither of the men had the brains to consider using such knowledge for profit, but Mrs. Younge, being clever, had looked upon that news as an ideal manner to exact her revenge. For the first time, I learned that Mrs. Younge was aunt not only to Johnny, but also to Mr. Wickham, being the younger sister of his mother. She had never forgiven Mr. Darcy for foiling Wickham's plans to marry Georgiana. She wrote the blackmail note, Johnny and the stable hand resigned from Mr. Darcy's service, and the plot was in place.