By the time Darcy returned, the assembled foursome was in very high spirits indeed. Miss Darcy had been convinced to play on the pianoforte and Elizabeth was singing while her aunt and uncle danced.
Darcy was silent as he took in the scene. Their gaiety was stoking up memories he had long since forgotten. He recalled standing in a similar position as a very young boy. He had been sent to bed but had snuck downstairs when he could not sleep. He had gone unnoticed for several minutes as he watched his parents laugh and dance across the floor with their friends.
He was not aware that the music had stopped. He only realised that they were all watching him when Elizabeth crossed the room and stood in front of him.
“Darcy? What is it?”
He shook his head. “Nothing to worry about, my dear. I remembered something. I once witnessed my mother and father dancing here just as your relations were a few moments ago.”
“Did mama and papa like it here?” his sister asked shyly, leaving her instrument and joining them.
“Oh yes,” he said with a smile as he recalled other happy occasions in that very room. “Very much.”
“I would like to spend more time here if we can. I know very little about them.”
He nodded curtly. He had avoided this place for years in order to preserve his memories. That seemed foolish now. It was as if he had come home, despite him not having been there except for a few nights five years in the past.
“Yes, I would like that too.” He glanced at Elizabeth. “Of course, it is not only my decision now, but my dear Elizabeth’s.”
Elizabeth nodded without hesitation. “I have seen only a fraction of the place and already I am loath to leave it.”
He smiled fondly. “Of course, you have not yet seen Pemberley. It is far grander. The park is larger. The kitchen gardens are the largest and most extensive in England. My head gardener there has found a way to cultivate grapes.”
“Mr. Darcy,” she said, with exaggerated formality. The effect might have been far more severe had she been able to stifle the smile that had not left her lips all morning. “You must understand that I do not care where I live. As long as it is with you.”
“You do not know how happy it makes me to hear it,” he whispered.
“There is only one thing we must do before we decide where to reside for the coming months.”
“Is that so?”
He looked so genuinely confused that Elizabeth was alarmed for a moment. “Marry, of course.”
He laughed. “Of course. Well, that is what I have come to speak to you about. I have found a satisfactory solution thanks to Burns, my steward. We can be married by nightfall if you wish.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
They were ready within two hours. As Mrs. Gardiner helped Elizabeth prepare and Darcy’s valet helped him dress, Mr. Gardiner, Miss Darcy and an army of servants scoured the great house for sashes and garlands and other finery. Of course, Elizabeth had not brought a suitable gown. How could she have known what would happen?
It did not matter, in any case.
They all climbed into Darcy’s carriage; Darcy and Mr. Gardiner on one side with the three ladies on the other side. The carriage was large enough to comfortably accommodate them all.
“Are you sure, my dear?” Darcy asked before they departed. “We have no need to leave the estate when Burns can marry us here.”
She smiled. “Yes. I cannot explain it, but I would like to…” She turned to her aunt. “There was something magical about that place. It was ordinary and filled with soot, but I cannot think of anywhere else I would rather go.”
“Then it is settled, my dear.”
It took only a couple of hours to reach Gretna Green. They drove straight to the blacksmith’s she had seen a few days before.
The smith had emerged before they had time to leave the carriage.
“You two are older than what I usually see around here,” he said in a deep rumble.
Darcy shook his hand. “Indeed. Well, the only impediment to our marriage is time.”
The man scratched his head. “I don’t hear of that much. Mostly the couples I marry only come here because they have no other choice.”
“I suppose we do not have another choice,” Darcy said with a smile as he glanced at Lizzy. “The thought of waiting weeks to marry Miss Elizabeth is not one I can countenance.”
Lizzy had believed she could never feel as happy as she had when he told her of his wish to marry her even though he knew what had happened to her sister. Now, she realised that her heart had even more capacity for joy.
It was as if all the sorrow of the past year had melted away. She had no problem marrying in Meryton. With Darcy by her side, she cared even less about the gossip and scandalmongers. But to hear him say he could not wait even a few weeks to be her husband… she had scarcely been able to believe it.
“I doubt it is the same for you, miss. Given the chance, I’d bet any young lady would like the time to collect gowns and all those other trinkets you collect.”
She smiled. “I hate to say it, but you are wrong. I always believed I wanted baubles and fine muslins, but I was wrong. It is not the important part at all.”
He shook his head as if he suspected they were both mad. He said nothing. With an arm the size of a tree trunk, he gestured for them to come inside.
They stood before the anvil. Elizabeth could scarcely believe she was marrying somewhere that was typically a destination for minors who had no choice but to elope. There was no choir; no vicar; no gospel. It had never been a part of her plan for herself, but it felt natural and it felt right. Scotland had given her a new sense of freedom and vitality. Ever since she had crossed the border she felt more like the old Elizabeth Bennet.
She had no intention of remaining exiled from England—it was not in her nature to run away. No, it was not fear that had made her agree to marry at the anvil instead of at a church. It felt symbolic somehow. There was also the fact that she could not wait to marry him either.
“Do you consent to marry this man?”
Elizabeth was taken aback. Had she fallen asleep on her feet and missed the actual ceremony?
The blacksmith watched her with the trace of a smile on her face. “This ain’t Westminster Abbey. No airs and graces here.”
She laughed. She didn’t want Westminster Abbey. She didn’t want the choir or the crowd. She wanted Fitzwilliam Darcy at her side now and always.
“I do,” she said quickly. “I do.”
“And you, sir…”
“Get on it with it, man.”
This time the smith laughed. “Indeed. He is in a hurry. Very well. Do you consent to the marriage?”
“Of course I do.” Darcy looked so happy that Lizzy could not even hope to stifle her smile. Nor did she wish to.
“And these are your witnesses?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Gardiner cried, gripping her husband’s hand. “We are witnesses; we consent. Whatever is required of us we gladly declare it of our own free will!”
He looked back at Darcy and Lizzy and smiled. “In that case, I declare you man and wife.”
The Darcy Estate Page 7