by Wendi Sotis
Darcy breathed a sigh of relief at spying the crooked beech tree that indicated his coach would soon be passing the entrance to Longbourn. His heart pulled almost irresistibly towards Elizabeth and Georgiana, but the road had been especially dusty this morning. Today, of all days, it was imperative that he look his best when speaking to Elizabeth... and Mr. Bennet, of course.
As the coach passed the drive to Longbourn, Darcy glimpsed Bingley dismounting his horse. He wondered if his friend had proposed marriage to Jane Bennet the day before, as he had stated he intended to do in the letter Darcy had received just before departing London this morning. Bingley had also informed him that, although he had not seen Elizabeth himself, he had enquired after her. Both Georgiana and Jane had assured him that Elizabeth was healing nicely.
Darcy chuckled to himself, thinking of how surprised Mrs. Bennet would be when she realized the match she had planned between Jane Bennet and himself had been so far off the mark. The woman must be blind! He amused himself for some minutes imagining the matron’s reaction to having one daughter engaged, and the other courting with the intent of marriage—if Elizabeth would accept him, of course.
~%~
After cleaning up as quickly as possible, Darcy rushed down the staircase. Headed towards the door, he paused when he heard Caroline Bingley’s voice call out, “Mr. Darcy! How nice it is to see you again so soon.”
Darcy stifled a groan. Almost! He turned towards the sound. “Miss Bingley.” He bowed. “Good day. I am sorry to rush off so soon after returning, but I have urgent business that cannot be delayed.”
“Oh, I am certain you have time to say hello to Louisa and her husband. They are just inside.” She pointed through the door to the parlour. “We have all missed you terribly.”
Never one to be rude—at least not so blatantly as to leave without greeting his fellow housemates when confronted with their presence—Darcy agreed. “Yes, well, only for a moment, and then I must be off.” He gestured that she should precede him.
“Look who I found out in the corridor,” Caroline exclaimed. “Mr. Darcy!”
As if nobody else in the room knows who I am, Darcy thought as he bowed slightly. “It is a pleasure to see you all again, but you must excuse me. I was just leaving—”
“You are going to Longbourn, I presume?” Caroline asked. “You must miss Georgiana terribly, as do we. I am certain she grieves for your absence even more than usual while staying in such a place as the Bennets’ home! Whatever were you thinking, sir?”
Darcy ground his teeth. “Miss Bingley—”
“Charles left about an hour ago for a visit at Longbourn, but, for some reason, he did not invite us along. Perhaps we can accompany you? I am certain that Georgiana would welcome visitors with our refined sense of style and taste—”
“Stop, Caroline,” Louisa said loud enough to drown out her sister’s prattling, startling her husband awake. “Mr. Darcy wishes to leave now. It is quite obvious that he does not want to wait another hour for you to ready yourself so that he can escort us. Do not detain him any further.”
Grateful to Mrs. Hurst, Darcy took the opportunity the interruption afforded and bowed. Hurrying towards the door, he quickly closed it behind him before Caroline could utter another word.
~
“Louisa, how could you?” Caroline screamed.
“I have hinted and tried to explain it nicely, Caroline, but now you shall hear the blunt truth, no matter how it may hurt you. Mr. Darcy is not the least bit interested in you, Sister. You shall give him up.”
Mr. Hurst looked at his wife with a shocked expression. “Who are you, and what have you done with my wife?”
“Do not be silly, Mr. Hurst. It is just that I am tired of watching my sister make a fool of herself, and I will not be a party to her ploys any longer.” She turned again to Caroline. “You may as well accept it, dear. Mr. Darcy is very much in love with Miss Elizabeth Bennet. You must move on.”
Mr. Hurst stood and offered his wife his arm, but Mrs. Hurst shook her head, indicating that she should stay to have a discussion with her sister.
Mr. Hurst nodded his understanding but was unwilling to remain to become a witness to the scene he could imagine would unfold. “I think I shall go to the stables to check on my dogs. Good afternoon, ladies.” He bowed his head slightly and moved quickly from the room.
~%~
On the ride to Longbourn, it was all Darcy could do to keep himself from fretting over what he was about to do. But as his horse turned the corner and Longbourn came into view, he could avoid the subject no longer.
Was it possible that Elizabeth would accept the man who had allowed Wickham to wreak havoc with the lives of so many people for so long? The man who had hired Mrs. Younge and entrusted Georgiana to her care, not recognizing that she planned to harm his sister? The man who could not be found when Elizabeth needed him—who did not arrive soon enough to keep her from injury?
Elizabeth deserves a better man.
Darcy’s heart pounded so forcefully, he was sure that if he advanced any further towards the house, the occupants would hear it. Pulling up on the reins, he brought the horse to a stop. He would need to accept his fate and bury his feelings before seeing Elizabeth once again and that time was not now!
Before he could turn the horse towards the road, Georgiana stepped from the house, waving. He clicked his tongue, and the horse walked on.
Darcy dismounted and handed his reins and riding gloves to a stable boy. Vaguely aware that Georgiana had kissed his cheek and was now speaking to him, he could not hear her words over the pulse thrumming in his ears.
A movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention, and he looked up. Elizabeth stepped from the house and into the sunlight. The fading bruises on her cheek did not mar her loveliness. Darcy swallowed hard past the emotion tightening his throat.
Elizabeth’s gaze met his, and what Darcy saw in her eyes mirrored the joy he felt in the depths of his soul, filling him with confidence and hope.
Darcy held out his arm. Elizabeth took it. He covered her hand with his own. A sense of peace enveloped him. I cannot leave her side unless it is her choice. He looked away to regain his senses enough to speak.
Georgiana and Jane walked briskly towards the formal garden on the side of the house. The couple followed, leaving him relatively alone with Elizabeth.
After a few minutes of silence, Darcy stopped walking. He took Elizabeth’s hand from the crook of his arm and held it in both of his own as he turned towards her, brushing his thumb over her skin.
Elizabeth looked down at their hands entwined and then slowly raised her gaze to his.
Darcy dared not blink, fearing the expression of love in her eyes might disappear if he did so.
Filling his lungs with her scent, he spoke with great feeling, “My heart and soul belong to you, Elizabeth. I cannot envision a future without you always by my side. I vow to spend my life striving to make you happy if you would do me the honour of becoming my wife?”
Warmth spread through Darcy as he watched the corners of her lips sweep upward into a glorious smile.
“You have set for yourself quite the task, sir, since you have already succeeded in bringing me great happiness with your proposal.” Elizabeth’s eyes gleamed with unshed tears. “Yes, I will marry you, Mr. Darcy.”
“Elizabeth!” Darcy breathed. His eyes dropped to her full lips as he took half a step towards her before realizing they were in full view of the house and both of their sisters. Bringing Elizabeth’s hand to his lips instead, he kissed it reverently.
A girlish squeal, which sounded suspiciously like Georgiana, came from the other end of the garden. Darcy and Elizabeth looked in that direction just in time to see Jane and Georgiana turn and continue walking away from them. Both Darcy and Elizabeth laughed, and their eyes met once again.
“I do not think you heard what Georgiana told you when you first arrived, sir,” Elizabeth said. “Mr. Bingley is here—in th
e study, speaking to my father.”
Darcy raised his eyebrows. “Right now?”
Elizabeth nodded. “At this very moment.”
“Do you think Mr. Bennet would be willing to speak to me when Bingley is done?”
“Over the past few days,” Elizabeth answered with a twinkle in her eyes, “my father has given me the distinct impression that he has been expecting you to approach him.”
“Will your father approve, do you think?”
Thinking back over the drawings she had received, Elizabeth smiled slyly. “I am confident that he will.”
~%~
December 17, 1811 ~ Netherfield
A rhythmic tinkling of metal on crystal echoed throughout the ballroom, gently demanding the attention of the neighbours and friends who had gathered there. When the group had quieted, all eyes turned to Mr. Bennet, who stood near the table shared by the two couples who had declared their marriage vows only a few minutes earlier.
Mr. Bennet cleared his throat. “I am pleased to present to you for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy, and Mr. and Mrs. Charles Bingley.” He raised his glass of wine towards the newly wedded pairs. “May your lives be filled with good health, prosperity, and great joy.”
Several Hear, hear’s could be heard as everyone in attendance took a sip of their preferred beverage. Servants began to bustle to and fro, serving their meal.
When an acceptable amount of time had passed, the musicians began to play.
“Mrs. Darcy...” Darcy hesitated, too stunned by Elizabeth’s beauty as she smiled at him to continue speaking.
“My new name sounds quite agreeable, especially when you say it,” Elizabeth said softly. “Will you do so again, please?”
“Mrs. Darcy...” he whispered.
“What is it you wish of me, my husband?”
Elizabeth’s skin flushed when his answering gaze settled on her lips.
Darcy’s chest expanded as he inhaled deeply. His eyes returned to hers. “May I have the honour of my wife’s hand for this dance?”
She nodded, took his hand, and allowed him to assist her from her chair. Jane and Bingley followed. After several others joined the set, the dancing began.
With an impish grin, Elizabeth brushed against him as she passed by. Darcy knew that if he did not distract himself soon, he would pull his bride into his arms and whisk her away to their carriage, urging the driver to make haste for London. He asked, “Is it a local custom to dance at wedding breakfasts?”
Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “My mother insisted that only a ball could celebrate our double wedding properly, but in the end, Jane and I convinced her to add dancing to the breakfast instead. I must say that she put up quite an argument at first. What convinced her was my reminder that your only requirement had been that we should spend this evening at your house in London—”
He interrupted, “Our house in London.”
Elizabeth was paired with Bingley for the next few steps. When her husband reclaimed her, he said, “Speaking of London, how soon until we can be on our way?” Darcy winked.
Elizabeth blushed. “I believe it would be rude to leave before we finish our dance, at the very least.” She tilted her head, “Are you certain you feel comfortable leaving Georgiana at Longbourn without Jane and me there?”
“I am quite certain,” he responded as his gaze flicked once again to her mouth. He hoped the gesture indicated what he could not say in company—that he would like to be alone with her during their journey, and, especially, this evening. They would have several days together before the Gardiners returned to London, escorting Georgiana to Darcy House. The threesome would journey to spend Christmas at Matlock, leaving Georgiana there with her aunt and uncle. The newlyweds would continue on to Pemberley, blessedly alone, for their honey month.
Again, the requirements of the dance parted the couple. When Elizabeth returned to her husband, his expression took her breath away. Suddenly, she was overtaken by the now-familiar dizziness that signified the arrival of a moment depicted in a sketch. She paled and stumbled.
“Elizabeth!” Darcy moved forward to support his wife. “Are you well?”
“Yes, I am well. Would you mind if we stepped outside for some air?”
Darcy escorted her to the terrace, but Elizabeth gestured that she wished to advance further. He led her down the steps, and they strolled through the garden.
Once they moved behind a hedge and were not visible from the ballroom, Elizabeth stopped and declared, “It was this dance!”
Darcy furrowed his brow in confusion.
She blushed, realizing that she had not yet shown him that picture. “One of the drawings is of us dancing. Because of what I was wearing, I assumed it was to take place at the ball, but, of course, our planned supper set was prevented by the circumstances.”
“What makes you think that the sketch was of this dance, instead?”
“The way you were looking at me just now,” Elizabeth said as her colour deepened, “and the dizziness that accompanied it. I have packed the drawings in the trunks which have already been sent ahead to your—our house, but I will show it to you when we arrive in London.” She looked down at her gown and said, “I am willing to wager that the gown in the drawing has already changed to this one.”
Elizabeth stepped closer, and Darcy folded her into his embrace.
“Fitzwilliam, during all that happened, what I feared most was that, with all my meddling with future happenings, any possibility of your falling in love with me had also been prevented.”
“My lovely, brave Elizabeth.” Darcy traced her cheek with his fingers, stopping when, as he brushed his thumb across her lips, she kissed it. Unable to resist her power over him any longer, he cupped her face in both hands and leaned in to press his own lips to hers.
After several tender kisses, he moved away. Gazing deeply into her eyes, he said, “The gypsies predicted that we would marry, Elizabeth... They must have known that, no matter what happened, it would not hinder my love for you. We were meant to be together.”
Elizabeth nodded happily and leaned her face into his hand.
Darcy swallowed. “I can only hope that I shall live up to your expectations.”
The light shining from her eyes conveyed more of her love than words alone could have expressed. “The gypsy blessing promised me love and great happiness. That could only be possible with you.”
Just the beginning...
Epilogue
~ February 1812
Darcy entered his mother’s... No, he smiled, Elizabeth’s sitting room. Elizabeth looked up from her writing desk and smiled. He approached and kissed her cheek before saying, “There is a letter for you, my love.”
Elizabeth’s expression betrayed her surprise... and a touch of disappointment. “Have the roads been cleared so soon?” Although she knew it was inevitable, she was not looking forward to the thaw. Passable roads would bring visitors. She had enjoyed being stranded at Pemberley alone with her husband for the past six weeks, too much to wish for anything else just yet.
“No, it will be some time before the roads are in tolerable condition. Mrs. Reynolds found this letter on the table in the entry hall.” He held it up.
“Oh, no!” Elizabeth took the missive and looked at the handwriting. She nodded. “It is from the gypsies.” Elizabeth had been so worried that she would not be able to gain the approval of the housekeeper, whom her husband looked upon almost as a mother, and now this? “I wonder what poor Mrs. Reynolds thinks of me after a letter has appeared as if by magic?”
“Do not worry; she loves you already,” Darcy answered, leaning down to nuzzle her ear with his lips. “As do I.”
Elizabeth enjoyed her husband’s attentions until a noise in the hallway distracted them. She looked again at the letter. “It has been months since I received anything from Simza and Fonso.” She frowned and turned the letter over in her hands. “Not since I received the drawing of our wedding
.”
Darcy raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps they sent another because there is something lacking in your life with me?”
Elizabeth stood, slid her arms around his waist, and brushed a kiss across his lips. “No, it could not be that. I am utterly and completely happy, just as the blessing promised.”
Darcy distracted her by deepening the kiss for several minutes before asking, “Would you like me to leave you alone so that you can open it?”
“No.” She kissed him again. “Whatever is in here is meant for us both to see.”
She turned in his arms and weighed the letter in her hand before breaking the seal. They looked upon the picture of a young lady sitting in front of Elizabeth’s hope chest, looking at the same picture.
A tear fell, wetting Darcy’s sleeve. He turned his wife to face him. “I do not understand, my love.”
“It is—” Elizabeth’s voice cracked, and she swallowed hard to clear the tightness from her throat. “She is our descendant. Her name is Elizabeth,” She looked up at Darcy with wide eyes. “She will find this drawing...” Elizabeth tilted her head, looking beyond her husband, “along with all the sketches I have received, including the necklace, enclosed in a package with a letter...” Her gaze met her husband’s, and she exclaimed, “A letter from me! Fitzwilliam, Elizabeth will benefit from the gypsy blessing, as well. Once I seal my hope chest, it will open only for one other... a lady with the same name as mine—Elizabeth Rose Bennet.”
Darcy took the drawing from her and examined it. “This is a likeness of our granddaughter—or great-granddaughter?”
Elizabeth nodded. “Add a few more generations, but yes, she is.”
“May I ask... do you know why she dresses like a boy?” Darcy asked as he handed her the picture.
Elizabeth examined the lady’s apparel—consisting of some sort of slacks that gathered tightly around her ankles and a loose, short-sleeved blouse of a peculiar kind. “I know not.” Elizabeth laughed quietly. “But I am certain her style of dress is much more comfortable than having to wear a corset.” She paused for several moments before continuing, “She is lovely, is she not?”