by Linda Wells
She looked up to him and watched the expression on his face. “Will you stay in London for the entire Season?” Please stay with me.
He met her searching eyes. “I will not leave.” I will not leave you.
Georgiana nodded. “Very well then, I will do as my brother requests for this Season.” Marshall smiled and saw her relief. They startled as a young man approached and bowed.
“Miss Darcy, I believe I am your partner for the next set?” He offered his arm. Georgiana smiled and took his elbow, then glancing at Marshall’s face walked off to the dance. He drew a breath and went to stand on the side, his eyes never left her.
Darcy and Elizabeth stood together, their hands clasped and hidden by her skirt, and watched the tender scene unfold before them. “Shall we send the guests home, Will? It seems that these suitors are unnecessary.” He laughed at her pursed lips.
“Dearest, I want this match as much as you do, and if we had waited until next year, perhaps I would not be so adamant about her meeting others …”
“I know your motivation and I agree with it, I just feel so terrible for Marshall, being forced to watch her with others. You know that you would not have endured it with grace were it me.” Elizabeth squeezed his hand.
“No, I doubt very much that I would, but both of us had much more experience, and knew what we wanted in our partner. All of the young men who were invited here are worthy. Some are certainly more interested in her dowry than she, well likely most of them are, but they are also all good men, they would not be here otherwise. Douglass is of a different sphere. She needs to be sure …”
“We do not need to justify our actions, William. I agree with you. I just know that despite your best intentions, the match is already made.” She smiled at him and he laughed softly, lifting her hand to his lips.
“Well then if we are forced to endure guests, then be prepared to dance your slippers off!” He caught the musicians’ attention in the balcony above the ballroom and nodded. Instantly a waltz began. Cries of excitement and dismay filled the room as married couples assembled to take part in the scandalous dance, and the single guests were relegated to the sides. Darcy grinned and held out his arms. “Come, my love.”
Elizabeth took his hand and smiled up to his twinkling eyes. “You had this planned!”
“I did.” He laughed and stood still, waiting for the cue to move. “If I must host a ball, then I will do it on my terms.”
May 1821
SEALING HER LETTER to Jane, Elizabeth could hear the sound of her children racing down the hallway, and the stern voice of her husband telling them to walk. She shook her head and smiled with the thought of the expression on his face. William was delighted with fatherhood from the first moment he learned that he had won the title. Her eyes lifted to examine the painting hanging across from her desk. It was a landscape that he had commissioned. The view was of Pemberley, and the painter had sat at the same grassy outcrop where they had made love the day she shared the news that she was with child, nine years earlier.
Nine years. It was nearly ten years since she met William, and the time had passed in the blink of an eye. So much had happened, births, deaths, weddings, tragedies, and many, many joys. Even the world around them was changing. The seemingly endless war did end, and the increasing importance of industry affected everyone and everything. She smiled and thought of how once she and William hoped to retire to Pemberley and never have to participate in the world again, but they realized, thankfully, how important it was to be willing to grow. Those who did not would be left behind. Her husband was determined that his family would prosper.
Elizabeth awoke from her musings to a silent house. Walking through her home, she smiled at the footman who rushed to open the front door. She could hear her family in the distance, and above the din of the children, William’s warm deep chuckle reigned. Laughing softly, she followed the sounds.
“Help me, Papa!” Emily Darcy held out her arms to her father and he lifted her tiny form onto the donkey’s back. He kissed her little nose, and tugged playfully her long chestnut curls. At four she was the apple of his eye, and only her mother surpassed her as the woman he loved the most.
“Me too, Papa!” Thomas Darcy, a dark-haired six-year-old stood nearby, tugging on his coat. Darcy laughed.
“You are old enough to be mounting yourself, Son.” He lifted the tall boy onto the donkey behind his sister.
“He can mount by himself, Father, but he still likes you to pick him up.” The eldest son, eight-year-old Matthew, called out from his seat on his pony. He bore a striking resemblance to his father, particularly around his soulful blue eyes, which were always either crinkled in a smile or lost in deep thought.
Darcy regarded his second son. “So young man, you have been hiding an accomplishment from me? I suppose that you have acquired some new riding skills as well? Show me what you can do.”
Thomas kicked the donkey. “Come on Catherine, let us show Papa!” The donkey brayed and began a slow stroll. Emily giggled. “Papa, why are all of the donkeys named Catherine?” Darcy laughed as he walked alongside them.
“Oh, have you not heard the story of how your mother and I met? I am sure that she has told it many, many times.”
“She has, but we have not heard it from your side, yet.” Matthew said. “She always makes it into a great tale, where the knight was riding to save a kidnapped maiden, and it was the work of an enchanted donkey that brought the attention of the good knight to a princess, and together they saved the maiden from the evil dark lord.”
Darcy was laughing so hard that he had to wipe the tears from his eyes. “And what is the explanation for the donkey’s name?”
Elizabeth strolled over from where she had been watching her children play, “Why she is the wicked witch, of course!”
Slipping his arms around her, he smiled down into her dancing eyes. “You have a fascinating imagination, my love.” She smiled warmly and caressed his cheek.
“Is it true?” Emily demanded.
He kissed Elizabeth and looked over to her mirror image. “Yes dear, every word.” Returning his gaze to Elizabeth he kissed her again, “We discovered the maiden and saved each other in the end.” Lowering his voice he whispered. “I dare not think what my life would have been without you.”
“It was fate.” Elizabeth hugged him.
“No, Lizzy, it was love.”
The End
About the Author
Linda Wells worked for years in the environmental engineering world until she traded her career as a geographer for one as a mom to a challenging and really great son. After seeing the 2005 production of Pride and Prejudice, she bought a copy of Jane Austen’s masterpiece and fell under the spell of her unforgettable characters and story. Eventually, a story of her own started nagging at her until she finally wrote it down. It has become a wonderful and rewarding experience to stretch her imagination, and with ideas for new stories still nagging at her, she hopes to write many more.
If you would like to contact Linda, she would be happy to hear from you: [email protected] or you may find her on Facebook, as well.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 3
1
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Epilogue