“Dear Papa, have no fear! I am doing just that! Both Mr. Darcy and I will enter into this marriage with our souls open and filled with hopes—no, with certainties—of happiness. All these months our feelings have not only changed but deepened and clarified. We both know our hearts and minds. We have no doubt that we are to be the happiest couple of the world,” Elizabeth replied, her eyes moistened, barely finding her words and laughing through her tears.
Mr. Bennet’s eyes also blurred. “If that is the case, I wish your hopes come true! I gave him my blessing—now I give it to you. I could not dream of a better man for you, my dearest Lizzy.”
“Nor I, Papa; nor I…”
Father and daughter remained in the library for another half hour. After a long struggle, Elizabeth decided to confess the proof of Mr. Darcy’s generosity in saving their family and his modesty in insisting that his involvement be kept secret. To her complete surprise, this information brought nothing but a little smile to her father’s face.
“I have suspected as much since that dinner when he denied knowing Lord Brougham. And when he returned from Town, I confronted him and presented him my suspicions and speculations. He first denied it, and then he said it was a subject we should not discuss. In exchange for loaning me his books, he asked for the favour of closing the matter forever. And Lizzy—he also asked me not to mention the subject to anyone else, especially to you. So my lips were sealed. But how did you find out?”
Elizabeth’s tears covered her laughter. “Oh, Papa, I did the same: I guessed and I confronted him. That is how he gained enough confidence to propose to me. Dear Father, what have I done to deserve the love of such a man?”
“I cannot answer that, my dear. But I know we are in deep debt to Mr. Darcy—now and forever. And the only way we can repay him is with our gratitude and your lifetime of love and devotion.”
“Of that, you may have no doubt, Papa,” she answered, embracing him tightly. “I still cannot believe how everything has changed for the best. Only a few weeks ago, I had only sorrow for Jane, for myself, and for you, and I was hopeless about our future. And now—how can I bare so much happiness?”
“Dear Lizzy, all I can tell you is that when something is meant to be, it will find a way to happen. Life—or better, as you young souls like to say—love will find a way, one way or another!”
No news of their engagement was spread that evening. The known betrothed smiled openly to each other, and the secret ones shared restrained smiles and glances while Mr. Bennet amused himself immensely, considering it might easily be the best evening of his entire life.
Once the family was alone, the knowledge of Mr. Darcy’s proposing to Lizzy was shared, and the effect was indeed extraordinarily. Mrs. Bennet remained silent for a long moment, which caused the others present in the room to fear that she might have suffered apoplexy. At last, her eyes widened and her lips began to move without uttering a single word. She finally sat in a chair, struggled to regain her breathing, and cried.
“Oh, dear Lord! Oh, dear God! Lizzy and Mr. Darcy! That cannot be! My dear Lizzy, are you sure? How can that be? You are so smart—you have always been! Mr. Darcy? My dear Mr. Bennet! Hill! Oh, stupid me, I tried to force you to marry that hideous Mr. Collins! Oh, dear Lord! I shall never tell you what to do again! I am such a fool! Mr. Darcy! Ten thousand pounds a year; that is even better than Mr. Bingley!”
Mr. Bennet shrugged his shoulders, unable to resist Mrs. Bennet’s euphoria, then returned to his library and locked the door. He had no reason to worry for the rest of his life, and he intended to take full advantage of his luck.
The night passed with little sleep but with great joy for both Elizabeth and Jane. They spoke of their futures, laughing soundly, and they were interrupted several times by Mrs. Bennet’s appearance in the middle of the night, inquiring after Mr. Darcy’s favourite food. It was a blessing for everyone when fatigue set in and calm took possession of the house once again.
Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy returned on the following day to see the Bennet ladies. The prospect of having Mr. Darcy as her future son brought Mrs. Bennet a kind of shyness and restraint she had never shown before. She only dared observe him in silence, attentive to every gesture, every wish, and every grimace. She found him to be the most handsome, kind, tall, generous, well-read, smart, and perfect gentleman who ever existed, and she prayed to the Lord constantly for making him so blind as to fall in love with Lizzy, who was wild enough to have battled her for so many years. Mr. Bingley was nothing compared to him, and not all the officers in the county put together could compare to him.
Ten thousand pounds a year! Lady Lucas will not have the advantage of me this time! This should serve her right for always speaking of that horrible Mr. Collins.
Shortly after refreshments, Mr. Bingley proposed a walk to Netherfield, and Jane accepted gladly. There was not a finer day than this in which she and her sister were perfectly happy.
Mary and Kitty agreed to accompany them as well for there was nothing else to be done at the house while Lydia, who could hardly accept that she was not the centre of attention, preferred to remain at home.
The last in the group and a distance from the others, Elizabeth took Mr. Darcy’s arm, enjoying his closeness; it was all she could think about since the day Mr. Darcy had found her at Oakham Mount. He briefly took her hand and brushed his lips over her wrist then placed it back on his arm. He gently covered it with his hand and their fingers entwined. Neither of them was wearing gloves, and the sweet touch made them both quiver. The small gesture, so desired, was only a promise of what might come.
A few moments later, Elizabeth regained her composure enough to speak. Her joy was contagious, and soon Mr. Darcy was no longer taciturn and serious; he spoke about all that mattered to him, making Elizabeth feel part of his world. She knew some things about him, but there were many others she was desirous and eager to discover.
They talked extensively about Georgiana, who, upon reading of her brother’s engagement in his most recent letter, had expressed a wish to know Miss Elizabeth.
“I am eager to meet her. I feel I love her as a sister already—and more so because she is your family!”
Mr. Darcy smiled, revealing to Elizabeth what she loved most about him.
“Georgiana needs a friend, a family. I have tried to be close to her, but I am afraid my manners are not always appropriate for her upbringing. My mistake is that I have tried to be her father when she needed a brother and friend. She has resented me for it, and she took quite some time before she forgave me.”
“I think Georgiana loves you immensely. I have more experience than you in this regard with my sisters; no quarrel lasts forever.”
Mr. Darcy squeezed her hand lovingly as Elizabeth looked at him with the same sentiment.
They were in the middle of their walk when they noticed they were alone on the path. Mary, Kitty, Jane, and Mr. Bingley had disappeared somewhere in front of them. Mr. Darcy was the first to notice it but made no effort to follow the party. He rejoiced in having Elizabeth’s company all to himself.
“Our party is gone,” she said, not particularly convincingly.
“The only party I am interested in is right here with me,” he answered stopping in front of her.
She lifted her eyes to him, her lips slightly trembling into a shy smile. His blue eyes caressed her face, and his warm, tender fingers followed. Her eyelashes lowered, and she held her breath. As sweet as a dream and as silky as a summer breeze, his lips tantalized her face, and his hoarse voice whispered, burning her skin.
“You are so beautiful, Lizzy!”
Elizabeth smiled. He had never called her Lizzy before, and her name had never sounded so full of tenderness As her knees became weak, her arms circled around his waist, and she leaned into the safety of his embrace, their faces close. Small kisses touched her cheeks, her eyes, her temples, and then lower towards her lips.
“Ever since I saw you in that pool of mud at Rosings Pa
rk, I have thought constantly of you, Lizzy! But I was not ready to admit it at the time. I could not! Georgiana was at that time an urgent matter for me, and I could not allow anything else into my life.”
She blushed with the remembrance of that terrible day; it was not her favourite memory, and she tried to cover it with laughter.
“Yes, you were quite awful! For some time, I imagined that the sight of me in such a dreadful condition completely appalled you.”
“And I had never seen anyone more beautiful; your face, soiled by dirt as it was, looked wonderful as your eyes sparkled with anger. If I seemed unpleasant, it was because I was not prepared for the torment you stirred inside me. But the more I knew of you, the deeper you entered my heart. You are so unafraid of everything and anyone!”
“Yes,” she said, blushing again, “My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me. I have always been so; you should have seen how much trouble I was for Mama!”
“It is precisely your spirit that brought me to Netherfield Park. I needed to see you again; it was only my luck that Netherfield Park was available for rent. I was not sure how I should see you again, but I had to employ something, and I must say. Bingley was of great help in the matter.”
“And I was so determined to avoid you. When I discovered you were at Netherfield Park, I vowed that I should never meet you.”
“If you had only known what I felt when I saw you were not at the ball. I was sure I would meet you; I wished for nothing more than to apologise for what I said earlier—to alter your terrible impression of me.”
“You did succeed, sir, eventually…”
“I still cannot believe my good fortune, and I wonder how I was so lucky to finally earn your forgiveness and your love.”
“I wondered the same,” she whispered, her breath catching as his lips touched the corner of her mouth and his arms closed more tightly around her. “I even asked my father, and he told me that, if something is meant to be, it will happen eventually.”
“Your father is a wise man,” he answered an instant before his lips captured hers, his arms captured her body, and his love captured her soul.
Epilogue
Elizabeth waved goodbye to her father until his carriage disappeared from sight. She was sure she would miss him terribly as she had during these months since she became Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy. Father and daughter had never been apart for so long, and not even their increased correspondence quenched her need to have him as a guest at Pemberley. Having him comfortably settled in one of the front apartments and seeing the two most important men in her life getting along so well was her greatest joy.
What a blessing my life is! How can so much happiness be contained in just one person?
Elizabeth loved being Fitzwilliam’s wife above all things, although she was not yet accustomed to living at the beautiful Pemberley. The first time she had seen the gates of her future home had been an experience—fear and excitement overcome, comforted only by Darcy’s warm embrace. She serenely watched the green scenery passing before her eyes and suddenly felt as if she had known, in some strange way, the road to the mansion.
“Are you all right, my beloved?”
Elizabeth caught Darcy’s eyes, unable to speak a word and gently kissed his dimples.
“Yes, I am perfectly well. Is it strange, but I feel I know this place.”
“What do you mean, Lizzy?” Fitzwilliam laughed gently.
“I cannot explain,” Elizabeth confessed, slightly titillated by the sensation she got whenever Fitzwilliam pronounced her name in such an intimate way, “but I do feel I have been here before—without being here. Maybe it was in a different life that I knew this place.”
“Maybe! I have always thought there are more ways than one to live a life.”
It was Elizabeth’s turn to smile contentedly as she felt his tender kisses on her temples. His arms embraced her closely while his fingers travelled along her neck in a tender movement that made Elizabeth breathe with an intensity she could barely conceal. She turned her head to Darcy once again, and his eyes locked with hers in anticipation of a kiss so deeply desired by both of them.
The intense delight of his lips upon hers intoxicated Elizabeth, and she could not have moved even had she wanted to. He had the power to make her surrender, yielding to his every will or desire.
“Lizzy, what have you done to me?” he whispered before the doors of the carriage opened wide for the master of Pemberley and his wife. Elizabeth struggled to regain her composure and, holding Darcy’s arm, entered the manor as its mistress.
Soon life took its course with a serenity Elizabeth had not known before. A study of the man she loved revealed nothing of a disappointing nature. When she remembered her mother’s warning to be prepared for reality after the wedding—that a man changes exceedingly after becoming a spouse—Elizabeth gave a sound laugh.
“Well, Mr. Darcy has already proved that he can be quite disagreeably proud, but you already know that about him, Lizzy. But do not worry; he will be that way with other people but not with you.”
In spite of her mother’s good intentions, Elizabeth knew not to trust her words; firstly, there was not a time in which Mrs. Bennet was ever proved to be right, and secondly, Elizabeth was more aware of Fitzwilliam’s character. In her own past behaviour, Elizabeth had doubted and misjudged him greatly. Its remembrance still caused her annoyance, and when she recalled how utterly unjust she had been, anger turned inward. As a result, she promised herself that she would never again question her beloved husband or his intentions towards her or her family. She knew what he had so generously done for her and her family, and she trusted she was not mistaken in her lofty judgement. Elizabeth knew that, in choosing her, Fitzwilliam had even confronted Lady Catherine, who came in person to speak to her nephew before the wedding, demanding that it not take place. Elizabeth was not present, but news of it reached her ears by means of a letter from Mrs. Collins. After reading it, Elizabeth wept as she had not done before, but she promised they were the last tears she would shed, for she intended never to make Fitzwilliam regret his choice.
At every opportunity, Elizabeth observed her husband, especially when he was not aware of such interest from his wife. There was no hidden intention, but it sprang from a necessity of seeing him and being next to him as often as she could—even from afar. Everything she discovered was worthy of praise: the lively manner in which he moved over his estate, his dealings with other people, the easiness with which he spoke to all, and the interest he showed in all that was related to her.
There were times when Elizabeth found her husband too serious, his serene nature disappearing for a while as he was preoccupied with some troublesome business. He would be in his study for many hours while Elizabeth pondered what she could do to be of assistance without becoming bothersome.
She always chose the simplest of solutions: to show him how much love he had made her feel since becoming his wife. She would enter his private study—often finding him pacing the room, lost in thought—and would simply embrace him, resting her head on his manly shoulders for a moment while her hand intertwined with his. At times, there was barely a word spoken between them, for the love they both felt was enough to fill the silence of the room. For these lovers, silence was their friend and not a furious rival.
The support was mutually felt; Fitzwilliam sensed when Elizabeth was still cautious about Pemberley business when they were in the company of others who had dealings with the property about which Elizabeth was not always prepared or aware. Neither reproaches nor recriminations were ever uttered at Pemberley between the two spouses, no matter how serious or frivolous the circumstances. Instead, Darcy encouraged Elizabeth to trust her feelings and decisions and to ask for advice when he was not around. She was an apt pupil, dependable and respected by all who lived on the estate.
Other than Georgiana, they had no permanent guests, although Jane and Bingley visited quite often, and Elizabeth felt grateful for being a
llowed to enter into her life so generously.
Georgiana was sweet, meek, and loving, and she loved Elizabeth as an admired sister from the first moment they met. Of course, Elizabeth had been introduced to her by Fitzwilliam in his correspondence right after he proposed, but nothing prepared her for the friendship and affection Elizabeth shared with her and her brother.
Music was frequently heard throughout the house as the delightful voices of both Elizabeth and Georgiana enchanted the rooms of Pemberley. The harmonious nature of her brother and Elizabeth’s relationship and their open expression of affection alarmed her at first, only to be seen as admirable in a short time.
Nothing unpleasant was ever spoken between the two women, and the name of Wickham was entirely banished from both their memories. News of his detention for treason in Town reached Darcy several weeks after it happened, but he confided the information only to Elizabeth during one of their intimate talks. She was not surprised at such an outcome for a gentleman who had done so much evil in his life, but she rarely held a grudge and promised that she would never mention him to Georgiana.
However, Wickham was commiserated and wept over, though by a person he had never considered worthy of his attention. Lydia, who received the news via Lady Lucas, promised in a letter to visit him as soon as possible.
The sketch of Wickham in the newspapers—his charms had not eluded him, after all—was too much of a temptation for Lydia, who considered him to be a victim of Mrs. Foster’s folly and Mr. Wickham’s unfortunate luck. After she received Wickham’s answer to one of her letters, Lydia even attempted to go to London to be with him, but Mrs. Bennet, who discovered the plans quite by accident, put them to a definite end. The shock had been immense, but the solution required some thought, and this proved to be quite a challenge since Mrs. Bennet was not used to it.
Although her scruples were not connected so much with the morality of what Lydia had intended to do—she could understand some parts of the rushed affair and even Lydia’s inclination to do something so novel as Lydia was still her favourite child—but with something much more practical.
Meant to Be: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 33