by Leenie Brown
Elizabeth lowered her gaze to the letters. “Before we can move forward, as we must, for we are family, it is necessary that you hear from me.” Her hands smoothed over the papers on her lap once again before she began telling her tale of growing to love Darcy. She told of her refusal of his first offer of marriage and the letter Darcy had written to her in response. She told of her time of contemplation and re-evaluation of the man she thought she knew. She told of how she began to be uncertain she knew him at all, only to discover that it was not true. She knew him well. He was a man to be esteemed, a man who was her best match in every possible way. She continued her tale with her hope at Pemberley and how it had been crushed by Lydia’s elopement and Darcy’s failure to return with Bingley. “I mourned for what could have been. I knew not why he had abandoned you or me, but I believed it to be because of Lydia. Eventually, I came to a place where I had to accept that my first and greatest love was gone, and so I began my friendship with Jack.”
Bingley grabbed her hands, which were once again smoothing the letters. “Tell me no more,” he pleaded. “I cannot fathom having returned to Hertfordshire and finding Jane with another.” At this, a tear pushed through the blinking of eyelashes and slid down his cheek. “If Jack had lived…” his voice trailed off.
“I would have continued my friendship with him and never ventured to London for a season, and I would be none the wiser about any of this. I would remain as I was, content but not completely happy. Loving, but not fully.”
“Please, no more,” Bingley begged as other tears chased the first one down his cheek. “Tell Jane I will await her return but understand if it is not soon.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “You must not retreat. There are twenty letters on my lap, and I dare say there would be hundreds more if you had not told Mr. Darcy to desist.” She leaned toward Bingley, her hands still grasped in his. “Write constantly. Call every day. Only stop when she tells you to stop and not a moment before. And then hope, even when the world looks bleak and the way seems impossible because, sometimes, the impossible fades into the greatest joy of your life.” She squeezed his hands tightly. “Promise me that you will go home and write to Jane and that in the morning you will do so again.”
He nodded. “I do not deserve your kindness.”
She looked at Darcy and then back at Bingley. “Perhaps you do not, but does anyone ever deserve kindness, or is it a gift bestowed by the giver?” She arched a brow in question and then smiled impertinently.
Bingley chuckled despite his tears.
“Go home,” Elizabeth said once again. “Write to my sister and in three day’s time, join us here for our wedding.”
Bingley looked to Darcy. “I would be welcomed?”
Darcy took the pile of letters from Elizabeth’s lap and shuffled through them. “If you have this,” he said handing the letter to Bingley. “I did, after all, instruct Campbell that he was not to admit you without it.”
Taking the letter, Bingley folded it and placed it in his pocket.
“I cannot say how we will move on from here, but it shall not be done separately.” Darcy stood and extended his hand to Bingley. “I once told you that my good opinion once lost was lost forever; however, that is not true. Although you may have lost it for a time, that does not mean it cannot be restored with time and effort.”
Bingley gripped Darcy’s hand tightly and gave it a firm shake. “Thank you. I shall endeavor to deserve it.”
Darcy stood looking at the door after Bingley had left. His musings about what had transpired were halted, however, when Elizabeth wound her arm around his.
“You were very forgiving,” she said. “Very unlike a gentleman with an implacable temper.” She favored him with a teasing smile.
He chuckled. “As were you.”
“What other option was there?”
“None. I would not see you separated from your sister,” he looked down at her, “and I would be lying if I said I had not missed him. He was much like a brother.”
“A younger, more foolish one.” Georgiana giggled at the surprised looks on Elizabeth and Darcy’s faces. “You had forgotten I was here,” she said as she rose from her seat. “I am happy for both of you.” She looked toward the window and then back at her brother with a twinkle in her eye. “I do not relish the thought of admiring any more carriages, so perhaps I shall go to my room and conduct a search of several minutes for something that I might show Elizabeth?”
“A very good idea,” replied Darcy. “Will you play for us when you return?”
She grinned widely. “When I return with very heavy footsteps, I shall play for you if you promise to behave while I do so.”
Darcy shook his head. “I make no promises.” He waved his hand toward the door in a sweeping motion. “Now be off so I might kiss Elizabeth.”
Georgiana giggled and scooted toward the door.
“And close the door,” he added.
“I do hope you remember my compliance when my turn comes,” she said as she reached the door.
“If you have been separated from him for five years, I shall consider it.” The words bounced back to him from the inside surface of the door. “She will claim she heard only half of it ─ the half she wishes.” He wrapped his arms around Elizabeth. “If Mr. Murrish would just get on with it, she might soon be happily settled.” A hand placed softly on his cheek drew his attention back to the woman in his arms.
“If Mr. Darcy would just get on with it,” Elizabeth suggested, her thumb caressing the lightly shadowed skin of his jaw.
And he did.
Chapter 7
Jane spun her sister around in a circle. “Beautiful,” she sighed as she pulled Elizabeth into a gentle embrace, taking care not to crush one bit of the lovely white muslin gown her sister wore. She held Elizabeth at arm’s length and then, after studying her sister for a moment longer, straightened the silk sash on Elizabeth’s dress and fluffed the sleeves. “Are you happy?”
Elizabeth nodded, a smile splitting her face. “I have never been more so.”
“I remember another day like this when I asked you the same question,” said Jane with a raised brow.
Elizabeth remembered that day, too. Her answer on that day had been, “I believe I am.” It had been honest enough to not prick her conscience and delivered with enough of a smile to be acceptable to her sister after a moment of scrutiny. A moment very similar to the one she faced now as Jane tilted her head and studied her with narrowed eyes.
“I find your answer today to be much more satisfactory.” Jane gave Elizabeth another hug and then, though they did not need it, she straightened Elizabeth’s sash and sleeves again. “I worried about you.” She plucked at one of the small yellow flowers that adorned the sleeve of Elizabeth’s gown. “You were not so happy as I had been, and I could not discern the reason. If I had but inquired more…”
Elizabeth shook her head to stop her sister from saying anything further. She and Jane had canvassed this subject twice already. Twice Elizabeth had assured her sister that she had been content. Jane’s gaze had dropped to the floor, so Elizabeth lifted her sister’s chin. “Are you happy still?” she asked.
“I will be.” Jane had not yet returned to her home, nor had she spoken to or seen her husband.
She fidgeted again with Elizabeth’s dress. “I do not know what I will do when I see him,” she admitted.
Elizabeth stilled Jane’s hands. “You will be proper and caring. You always are.” Elizabeth’s smile and words were gentle. “Will you return to your home?” Until last evening, when Elizabeth had last seen her, Jane had been uncertain of the best path to reconciliation. She was torn between staying at the Gardiners until things were resolved or returning home.
“We have much to discuss.” Her eyes were fixed on where her hands were joined with her sisters.
“You do,” agreed Elizabeth, “but do not spend another day separated from him, Jane. Aunt and Uncle will gladly keep the children.”
Jane sighed. “I know. I do miss him.” She lifted her eyes to Elizabeth’s. “He is truly penitent?”
It was a question Elizabeth had answered at least once on each of the last two days. “He is.” Elizabeth dropped her sister’s hands and pulled a box out of her trunk, which was the last of her things still needing to be delivered to Darcy House. From the box, she took five letters. “I told him to write you every day, once in the morning and once in the evening and to never give up on you until you told him to do so.” She held the letters out to her sister. “He did.”
Jane took the letters, a puzzled expression on her face. “He gave them to you?”
Elizabeth nodded. “I was to decide if you would ever be given them, just as he decided that Mr. Darcy’s letters would never be known to me. He is very conscience-stricken.” She snatched the letters back from Jane. “Oh, do not open them!” she cried. “One should not attend a wedding with a swollen red nose.”
Jane giggled. “But I am so curious.”
Elizabeth could well imagine that she was. “He loves you, Jane. He has made his apologies to all those he has wronged ─ save you.” Once again, she held the letters out to her sister. “You may read them after you have completed your responsibilities of standing up with me.” She raised a brow and gave her sister a stern look. “Not a tear until then.”
“Not even happy ones?” Jane asked as she dabbed the corner of one eye with her handkerchief.
“A few might be acceptable,” conceded Elizabeth, linking arms with her sister and exiting the room.
“Who is standing up with Mr. Darcy?” Jane asked as they descended the stairs to where Mr. Amberly waited.
“Charles is,” said Elizabeth. She continued speaking over the sound of Jane’s gasp. “Mr. Darcy wished to show you as clearly as he could that your husband has been forgiven, and since Uncle Gareth is already filling Papa’s role, he could not do both.” She smiled at her uncle. “Although, we are both very grateful to him for his scheming in bringing us together.”
“It was a pleasure.” He offered her his arm. “The carriage awaits, my ladies.” He bowed slightly. “Franklin, Mrs. Amberly’s trunk is to be delivered straight away,” he reminded his butler. “It is the last time I shall call you that, my dear.”
Elizabeth squeezed his arm more tightly.
“Jack made me promise to see you happy,” Mr. Amberly said as they exited the house, “and I vowed to see you even more happy than you had been with him.” He smiled at her and patted her hand. “Oh, I knew you were as happy as you could be with him, and I am so grateful to have had you added to my family. It is the best thing that has happened to Stella and me since taking Jack in after his parents died. The very best thing.” He made sure she was settled into the carriage before turning to assist Jane and then his wife. “I might be allowing you to marry Mr. Darcy, but you will remain a part of my family.” His tone was unusually serious for a typically very merry gentleman.
“I would have it no other way,” assured Elizabeth. “You have been very good to me, and I am grateful more than words can ever tell. But it is more than that, and you know it.” She smiled at him and then sighed. “I fear we may find ourselves in need of family since I do not believe Lord and Lady Matlock or Lady Catherine will be receiving us in their homes or calling on us at ours.”
Mr. Amberly climbed in and settled in next to his wife, a knowing smile on his face. “Oh, Lord Matlock will accept you.”
Elizabeth looked at him in surprise.
He shrugged. “He wishes my support, and if I have to force him to like you, I will.” His eyes twinkled. “For I know once he has made your acquaintance, he shall be hard pressed not to be charmed.”
He nodded to the footman that he was ready, and the door was closed and latched.
Not more than half an hour later, Elizabeth stood at the far end of the yellow drawing room in front of a large set of doors which opened out onto a small terrace. Here, with a few friends and family gathered around, she placed her hand in Darcy’s and pledged herself to him.
Jane smiled throughout the entire ceremony and much of the breakfast which followed, though she did dab at her eyes several times.
Bingley had arrived that morning with not only the letter Darcy had required he keep to gain admittance but with an additional five copies of it, perfectly folded and bundled together.
It was, Darcy had told Elizabeth, no trifling gesture, for Bingley had never enjoyed writing letters and had always written them most carelessly. Deciphering his meaning had always been a bit of a chore. But these — these were painstakingly produced without a single blot or smear, and the characters were carefully formed.
Presently, Bingley stood to the side, watching Jane until, finally, she looked his way and smiled at him. Within moments, he was at her side and had taken her hand in his.
“They are happy,” Elizabeth whispered as she leaned toward Darcy. “I am glad of it.”
“As am I.” Darcy took her hand and, placing it in the crook of his elbow, held it there as he led her past Lord Matlock, who was in what sounded to be a serious discussion with Mr. Amberly.
“You are leaving so soon?” asked Georgiana with a twinkle in her eye. “But what of your guests?” She crossed her arms and feigned a glare at her brother.
“You are capable of seeing to them,” he answered.
She sighed and attempted to hide her smile. “At least, it is more entertaining than looking at carriages.”
He chuckled and gave her forehead a kiss. Then, with a nod toward a certain gentleman and with a teasing smile of his own, he said, “Please inform Mr. Murrish that I would be pleased to meet with him whenever he comes to his senses, so long as that does not happen for at least a week’s time.”
Georgiana’s cheeks grew rosy. “You find him acceptable?”
“I do.”
Georgiana smiled and thanked him before moving toward the man whom Darcy had indicated.
“He is a fine man, and she seems quite fond of him,” said Darcy with a last look at his sister before leaving the room with Elizabeth.
“She will be happy with him,” agreed Elizabeth. Elizabeth knew that Darcy’s sister was a good deal more than just fond of the gentleman. Georgiana had shared a great deal with Elizabeth about Mr. Murrish, including her fear that her brother might not approve of the match since, although Mr. Murrish’s income was good, it was not grand. It was not a matter of fearing she would marry beneath her station. Standing in society had long ago become of little importance to her brother, but she knew he would fear she would not be content to live in a smaller home with less fine things.
“I believe she will be,” he agreed as they climbed the stairs. Reaching the landing where the staircase turned to continue its climb to the family’s rooms, he paused to give her a brief, soft kiss. “Are you happy, Mrs. Darcy?” he asked as they continued up the few remaining stairs.
Elizabeth leaned into his arm and squeezed it tightly. “Ask me again,” she said as both her feet reached the top of the stairs.
He smiled down at her. “Are you happy, Mrs. Darcy?”
She nodded. “However, it is such a small word that I am not convinced it can contain the depth of my joy.”
He agreed and bent to kiss her lightly once again.
She smiled at him, and before he could straighten completely, she drew his face down to hers, so that she might kiss him as she had that night in the garden at the ball. It was a kiss which now, as it did then, caused desire to swirl and dance within her.
Wrapping his arms around her, Darcy pulled her close. Delight filled him. She was his, at last. “Elizabeth,” he whispered as he pressed kisses along her neck. “My Elizabeth.”
She sighed and held him tightly to her. “Your Mrs. Darcy,” she whispered. She felt him smile against her neck at the comment as he continued his trail of kisses up her neck and along her jaw before claiming her lips once again.
A dish clattered to the floor somew
here below them, and breaking their kiss, he scooped her into his arms to carry her to their room. “My Mrs. Darcy,” he said as he kissed her forehead. “Finally, my Mrs. Darcy.”
Epilogue
Sparks leapt toward the chimney as the yule log hissed and popped. Elizabeth snuggled a bit more closely to her husband. Little Thomas Alexander Darcy’s fist dropped from his mouth, and he whimpered softly as he rubbed his nose on his papa’s shoulder before turning his face away and returning to peaceful sleeping. He had been born only six months ago. There would be no season for Elizabeth this year. She and Darcy would happily wile away their time in the country watching their precious son grow. Darcy could not be happier to be missing the season, and fortunately, Mr. Murrish had finally come to him and offered for Georgiana. They were happily married and expecting a child in the spring. Their residence, of course, was in London, but tonight and for the last fortnight and at least another one to follow, depending on the weather, they were ensconced along with a large gathering of family at Pemberley.
“I should say not,” Colonel Fitzwilliam’s voice boomed across the room. His lovely wife, Arabella, the sister of a Spanish colonel whom he had worked alongside as an aide de camp during the occupation, raised a delicate brow and spoke softly to him in her native tongue. He nodded to Darcy and smiled sheepishly at Elizabeth in apology. Then, he turned to the group gathered around him to continue his tale about some happening from his time in France.
He had arrived at Pemberley just last week. He had accompanied his commander back from the continent with the last of the troops at the end of November, and then, after a short time in London settling into his townhouse and making ready his office for the beginning of the parliamentary season, he had been given leave to travel.