Fate and Consequences

by Linda Wells

  “I … I thought the same.” She bit her lip and looked away.

  “My behaviour concerns you.” He said softly, thinking over his conversation with Darcy. “I am doing my best Jane, and I do love only you.”

  “You love me?”

  “Have I not said so?” He closed his eyes. “Not often enough, it seems.” His gaze wandered over towards Bonnie and he suddenly realized the problem. “Dear Jane, do you fear for my constancy?”

  She would not look at him. “I … oh, Charles of course not.”

  “Jane, I did not tell you this, but when I was in London last, I made a point of visiting my old haunts of bachelorhood; and do you know what I found? I discovered that I could not wait to run home to my angel. Sweetheart, I am a friendly person, you know that … I am like Elizabeth in a way, but you know that she may smile and talk to others, but she would never stray from Darcy. Can you not see that same behaviour in me?” He gazed at her with all sincerity.

  Jane lifted her eyes back to him. “Forgive me for doubting you. I see the comparison between you and Lizzy. I just love you so much, Charles, I suppose I am frightened of you someday forgetting me.”

  “You have no reason to ask for forgiveness because I am not offended. I … I will do my best for you, my dearest Jane. I will stay true to you.” Again he lifted her hand to his lips, and they moved a little closer to each other. Her hand remained tightly clasped in his and he turned his eyes back to Darcy and Elizabeth, now risen from the instrument and standing under the kissing bough. Darcy looked down at her, his eyes twinkling, and cocked his head, raising his brows in question. It was an expression that Charles only saw given to Elizabeth. She pursed her lips and rose up on her toes to softly kiss him and caress his cheek. You give me quite an example to follow, my friend.

  CHRISTMAS MORNING brought with it new snow and a leisurely breakfast. Gifts were exchanged, mostly within the separate families, although Elizabeth gave all of the women assortments of scented soaps and perfumes and Darcy presented the men with fine bottles of port and cigars. Elizabeth handed him a small box and bit her lip when he looked at her with surprise.

  “I was not expecting anything from you, Lizzy. We certainly had no opportunity to shop in London.”

  “Open it.” She smiled as he carefully untied the ribbon, and slipped it into his pocket. Inside he found four new handkerchiefs; embroidered with their flowers and his initials, and a journal. He looked up to her and smiled. “Thank you, they are beautiful, and I will treasure them.” Elizabeth opened the journal so that he could read the inscription.

  25 December 1811

  To my husband,

  Our lives have just begun together, and this empty book is yours to record the memories of our future days. I hope that this is only the first of many volumes. Whatever those times bring, joy, laughter, children, or sorrow, know that I am with you in all things. Your days of loneliness are over, and I pray that the days of happiness far outweigh the times of sadness. I love you, and ask only that you hold my hand while we face our future together.

  Your loving wife,

  Elizabeth

  “Lizzy.” He whispered, and setting down his gift drew her into his arms to kiss her, entirely forgetting the other occupants of the room. Soon all of the conversation ceased and the rest of the family stared at them. Elizabeth’s head was nestled to his chest, and Darcy’s face was buried in her hair, their eyes were closed and they were lost in their embrace. Gradually the conversation resumed and they drew apart, each wiping the other’s tears. Darcy swallowed and pulled a small box from his pocket. “This is for you.”

  Elizabeth opened it with shaking fingers. Inside was a key, and an oval cut piece of parchment. She looked up at him. “The key is to a special place where only you and I will ever go.” He picked up the parchment and biting his lip, took the locket from around her neck and opening it, placed the note inside along with his lock of hair. He handed it back to her. She read the note and began to cry again.

  This is a piece of me, but in truth, you carry my heart in your hands. It did not begin to beat until the day I first saw you. Your arms are my shelter, your smile is my light, your laughter is my joy, and your kiss is my salvation. I love you.

  Always,

  William

  “Oh Will.” Darcy carefully placed the locket back around her neck and taking her hand rose to his feet.

  “Will you excuse us?” He did not wait for a reply. He smiled and led her out of the drawing room and down the hallway.

  “Where are we going?” She sniffed and dabbed at her wet face. Darcy smiled and leaned down to kiss her softly.

  “To show you our little sanctuary.”

  Elizabeth looked around as they travelled the halls. “Is it far?”

  He laughed as her tears gave way to her curiosity. “As far as your imagination will allow us to go.”

  Chapter 37

  “This house truly is an island in the midst of a great white wilderness.” Elizabeth murmured as she stood looking out of the window. A blizzard had raged for nearly a week, depositing several feet of snow and completely isolating Pemberley from the rest of the world. She was grateful that all of their Christmas guests had departed and were either home or well on their way and travelling south before the storm appeared. She rubbed her arms, feeling the cold radiating from the glass, and turned to find her shawl. William was speaking with Mr. Barkley, making plans to put men to work, cutting ice to store away in the several ice houses scattered over the estate. It was backbreaking work, but the gift of allowing the preservation of food in warm weather would make it all worthwhile. Georgiana was grateful to have all of the guests return home, even the Fitzwilliams. She finally felt free to just be herself and continue to heal.

  Elizabeth looked down at her sewing, tossed carelessly on the chair before the warm fire, but could not bring herself to take it up. Instead she decided that if it was too cold to walk outside, she should take some exercise by briskly roaming the halls. William had led her on countless tours, but even now she noticed that there were certain rooms that he avoided, or earned only passing comments. There were also certain alcoves and pieces of furniture that inspired silence. Slowly he would allow bits of information to be revealed, but each item was so heartrendingly painful to hear, and seemed more so to tell, that they would soon change the subject to happier topics.

  Her steps led her towards the music room where Georgiana sat alone working determinedly through a difficult passage. Elizabeth stood watching her quietly for some time, and when she stopped, applauded her efforts. “Well done, Georgiana!”

  “Elizabeth, how long have you been there?” She blushed and looked down. “It was awful.”

  “It was very good, and I would not even attempt it. I hope that you might give me some instruction sometime. I do not practice as I should; and it shows when I play.” Elizabeth touched her shoulder and smiled.

  “You have a household and a husband to run.” Georgiana provided an excuse with sincerity.

  “I am not sure if your brother would agree with you that I run him … well, maybe a little.” Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled.

  “He is very happy, and so am I.” Struck by a thought, her brow creased and she looked earnestly at her sister. “Did I perform well for our guests? I was trying to be part of the conversations.”

  “I think that my sisters drew you out. They were determined to bring you good cheer. Kitty and Lydia seemed to have formed a sort of conspiracy for you.”

  “They did?” She smiled with surprise. “That was very kind!”

  Elizabeth nodded and sighed. “They are good girls, silly and without direction, but perhaps Papa will listen to William and send them to school, or at least find them some instruction to improve themselves before they grow much older. He offered to help, but Papa said he would take care of it himself.”

  “But what of Mary?” Georgiana asked worriedly. “Would she not want the same benefit?”

  “She is eightee
n, and feels that she is too old for school. But when she is with you this spring, perhaps you can take her in hand.”

  Her eyes grew wide. “Me? Oh I am not so accomplished as that!”

  “Of course you are! You had the benefit of school and the masters. Surely you remember their techniques. She would appreciate your knowledge, I know she would.” Elizabeth smiled and patted her hand. “Now, I will stop interrupting your work, and continue my walk. Thank you for giving me some lovely music to accompany me. You are a gifted musician.” Georgiana sat up a little straighter and began to play again, and Elizabeth set off.

  Her wandering feet next took her to the portrait gallery, and she stopped before the likeness of Lady Anne Darcy. She was beautiful, but did not really resemble Georgiana, other than their colouring. The girl naturally did not resemble Mr. Darcy at all, he was dark and imposing just as his son was. There certainly could be no doubt that William’s blood was definitely that of a Darcy. Elizabeth studied the woman who had caused so much pain, then turned to the father whose response was to be so brusque with his son. She thought over her husband’s quiet confessions, and how she knew it was only the barest hint of his experience, and felt an intense desire to confront them.

  “How could you do this to your son?” She demanded of the two faces staring blankly at her. “All he wished for was to be loved; you were both fools to reject such a dear child, and exceptional man!” She paced back and forth before the portraits, then turned to look at them. “What a foolish woman you were!” She gestured to Mr. Darcy. “You were given every chance at happiness, and he DID care for you! You drove him away for the lack of a title!” Then she turned and glared at Mr. Darcy. “And YOU! What were you thinking treating your son and heir like so much a prized stallion! When did brutality succeed in producing quality? You nearly broke him, is what you did!” She stormed down the gallery then returned to them. “Oh how I wish you two were before me and I could really give you a piece of my mind! Fitzwilliam Darcy is the finest example of a gentleman that was ever born, and he became that way DESPITE your horrible parenting. On second thought, I am grateful you can not see him; you do not deserve to claim such goodness as the product of your upbringing! I love him, and our children will adore him. HE will be the parent that neither one of you could ever hope to become!”

  Darcy stood at the end of the long gallery, watching Elizabeth pace before the paintings. He heard every word, and it did more to help melt the stone that still seemed to reside in his heart from his troubled past than anything. He slowly walked down to where she stood with angry tears running down her face. “Lizzy, are you fighting for me again?”

  Startled she turned and saw him. “Oh Will, I am so sorry, I … I went for a walk to warm, and it seems that I chose to pick a fight with two ghosts instead. Did you hear me?” She looked down and asked softly.

  He tenderly lifted her chin and smiled. “I did, my love, and I thank you for your fierce defence.” He took her handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the tears.

  She grasped his hand. “Forgive me, but I just can not understand your parents.”

  “My father …” Darcy glanced at the portrait. “I know what Wickham said to you, but … you must realize that he saw what he wished.” He took her hand and kissed it.

  Elizabeth stroked back the hair that fell across his eyes. “You can not deny the harshness of your father’s behaviour towards you.”

  “No, that is true.” He tugged her hand and she settled her head against his chest. They stood embraced as he rested his cheek on her head and studied his parents’ portraits. “When my mother was alive he was so angry, and I was so small that he had no real use for me. It was not as if he could speak to me as a man, and often I felt that seeing me made him angrier for some reason, perhaps it was the reminder that I would likely be his only child, I do not know.” He felt Elizabeth’s arms squeeze him and he kissed her head. “After she died, I was at school, so we had contact only during the summer and on holidays. I would come home and it would be very … stiff between us, but gradually as the holiday continued, we would relax more and by the end of the visit he was … more like the man he could be, if that makes sense. He was teaching, not ignoring, instilling pride in our heritage and the land. As I approached majority, he spent a great deal of time educating me, challenging me to thoroughly know the workings of Pemberley and all of our holdings. But always, even in my youngest, loneliest days, I knew his pride for our family, even if he did not express it in a kinder way. Perhaps that is why I tried so hard to win his attention and was so devastated when he pushed me aside.”

  Elizabeth heard him seemingly making excuses for his father and was confused. “But what of Wickham?”

  “I believe that my father abused that relationship, at first out of a desire to anger my mother, and then later after she was gone, he gave Wickham more than he ever earned or deserved. By then Father was charmed by him. It formed the man Wickham became. I do not believe that Father ever told him to be deliberately cruel to me. I think that was entirely Wickham’s jealousy at work.” He sighed and began a delayed and painful confession. “You told my parents that I was good man, but you did not know me before … before Wickham convinced Georgiana to leave with him.”

  Elizabeth lifted her head. “What was different about you? I find it hard to believe that you simply manufactured this persona that I love in a day, and surely your family and the servants would not care for you as they do if you were anything but good and kind.”

  Darcy let go of her and stood before his parents’ portraits. “I … learned to protect myself by … being arrogant. I … treated those below me in society with disdain, and held myself above others. I know that in part it was to convince myself that I was better than Wickham, and also an attempt to earn my father’s praise, even beyond his death.” He stared into his father’s eyes. “I tried to emulate him. It became ingrained, so much so that I was not even aware of what he had created in me.” An expression of disgust appeared, and Elizabeth hugged herself, watching him finally confront his father’s influence. “Knowing you as I do now, I wonder if you would have tolerated the man I was then, or even wished to have known me. Would I have even allowed the attraction I felt when I first spied you to grow, or would I have simply assumed that you would want me because of my status? I was accustomed to being pursued in society. And worse still, would I have then rejected you because I was too proud to …” He stopped. “Bingley heard me questioning if I was worthy of you after Georgiana’s fall, and pointed out that I never would have considered you before, no matter what my heart said. I know that I mentioned some of this to you before, but I never really explained why.” He turned to her. “You, and only you, allowed my true self to emerge from behind the shadows of my past. I will forever be grateful that you found me.”

  “You give me far more credit than I deserve. I was struck by you the first moment that we met, before I knew anything of your status, and before this transformation of yours took place. What you were in essentials was plainly before me. I saw the man Fitzwilliam Darcy when you first captured my eyes.” She observed the emotions playing across his face. “I believe that you have brought out the best in me. I know that all we have experienced over these past months has matured me, and I would no longer wish to be the girl I was eight months ago. Perhaps I am the one who would have been found intolerable.”

  Darcy shook his head, and his intense gaze bore into her. “Elizabeth, do not disparage yourself in an attempt to placate me. I know … I am deeply aware of the man I was then.” He spoke urgently. “Think of Caroline Bingley. Do you not think that she saw something similar in me to herself? Do you not think that her brand of insufferable selfish arrogance lived in me? Why else would she latch onto me so vehemently?”

  Elizabeth’s anger began to rise again. “You were the wealthy, connected, and conveniently available friend of her brother!”

  He clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. “You are not listening to me!”r />
  Her eyes flashed. “I have heard every word, and yes, perhaps it is true …”

  “Perhaps?” He demanded.

  Elizabeth stood straight in front of him and clenched her fists. “Yes, PERHAPS! But whatever caused your behaviour, whatever continued it, whatever it was … you have conquered it. Obviously it was not your true nature otherwise I would not be here with you now. If I wished to marry an arrogant, selfish man, I would have accepted John Lucas or Mr. Collins for that matter. I chose YOU.” She continued to glare at him. “I am not afraid to question you, William, especially when it concerns your fundamental goodness.”

  Darcy’s eyes searched her face, taking in her expression, and he relaxed, holding out his hand. “I appreciate that more than you can ever know. Nobody questions me, and I need that.” Sighing, he pulled her hand and drew her back against his chest. “Whatever you and I were before; I thank God that we have each other now.” Resting his cheek on her head, he felt her arms wrap around his waist.

  “You desperately needed someone to take care of you.” She said softly.

  “I think that you did, too.” He kissed her nodding head. “I have never truly spoken of these things before. I have only thought about them.”

  “Do you feel better?”

  He soaked in the comfort of her embrace. “Yes, I do, but enough for today Lizzy, please?”

  Elizabeth looked up and saw his sad eyes. She knew how difficult it was for him to be so open, and could feel how he still wished to respect his father. His confessions of his failings were hard to hear, and impossible for her to imagine. Drawing a breath, she smiled and kissed him, it was time to move forward. “Of course, shall we go to the library? It is always warm there.” He smiled and released his embrace, then taking her hand; they strolled to one of their favourite rooms.

  Settling in a large chair before the fire, Elizabeth sat on his lap and drew a blanket over them. They nestled together in silence with their eyes closed, listening to the crackle of the flames, and the howl of the wind outside the window.