One Autumn with Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Anthology

by Fairbanks,Rose

  Eventually, she stilled and fell into an exhausted slumber. Easing her out of his arm the best he could, he reclined Elizabeth on the sofa. Janie finally seemed ready to settle and, while he had not held a child since Georgiana was one and he twelve, he lovingly rocked and sang to her. She soon fell asleep but, rather than placing the baby in the crib in Elizabeth’s bedchamber, he settled in a chair across from Elizabeth’s sleeping form. His heart was in his throat as he held her baby in his arms, wishing he could claim mother and daughter for his own.

  *****

  Elizabeth awoke and groggily looked at the crib, thinking she was in her bedroom. She quietly gasped seeing the man with the baby, sleeping together. She realized she had fallen asleep from relief and fatigue, after finally releasing her tears. Mr. Darcy had settled her on the sofa. He had remained with them, sleeping in the chair across from her. Janie’s precious face was nestled cosily on his shoulder, her thumb in her mouth. Gingerly she lifted her child and took Janie to the crib.

  Returning to the sitting-room, she was unsure of how to proceed. It was entirely improper for Mr. Darcy to remain, but she could see he needed the rest. She desired to speak further with him on several material points. But beyond that, she was simply happy to be in the same room with him; to see him again at last. When he first entered she saw he was as handsome as ever, in her eyes, but also tired and wearied as though he had lived through a great battle. Now he seemed at such peace. She decided to cover him in a blanket and allow him his rest. She curled up on the sofa, planning to keep watch over him.

  She next awoke to Janie’s happy babbles. “Papapapa.”

  “No, darling. Try saying Mama. I am sure she would be delighted.”

  Darcy looked at her then, interrupting his migration of the room as he bounced Janie in his arms. “Good morning, Elizabeth.”

  She smiled a little at his improper familiarity. She would have hated to hear “Mrs. Collins” from his lips.

  “Good morning, Mr. Darcy. Good morning, Janie.” How curious! Usually, Janie desired to nurse instantly upon waking, but she seemed exceptionally content with Mr. Darcy.

  “Has she been awake long?”

  “No.”

  Elizabeth rose to take her daughter. “I must tend to her.” She paused. Rosings was now full of guests and the servants would be awake. There were appearances to keep. “Perhaps we might continue our discussion in the small blue drawing-room in two hours?”

  Darcy quickly agreed and discretely exited Elizabeth’s sitting-room.

  Chapter Eleven

  November 26, 1814

  Rosings, Kent

  Darcy leapt from his seat and bowed when Elizabeth arrived. Elizabeth explained Janie was asleep. She had asked a maid to watch over the babe. After the obligatory greetings, they sat in strained silence. Darcy decided to forward the conversation.

  “You must have many questions for me, but it might be easiest if you explain what you know first.”

  Elizabeth met his eyes and seemed to search him for a long moment. “Very well.”

  She chewed her bottom lip, clearly remembering things she would rather forget in an attempt to decide where to commence.

  “I had always believed you were at least partially the reason Mr. Bingley left Netherfield and did not return for the winter of ‘11. Your strange behaviour, even for you, when you arrived at the Parsonage near Easter confirmed this suspicion. You seemed most interested in Jane’s reaction to the news of Mr. Bingley. Knowing your character as I do now, I can only assume you once believed she did not care for him and had counselled him accordingly.”

  “That is correct. I apologize. I was gravely mistaken…” Elizabeth waved her hand at him, and he stopped short.

  “Do give Mr. Bingley the justice of being his own man. He and my sister discussed his transgressions before their engagement. I suppose she should have left him in no doubt of her affections, but surely you can see it is an intimidating thought to expose one’s emotions for all to see when one has a private nature.”

  Darcy gulped. He certainly knew how terrifying it was to love someone and have it not returned. He hoped he had been wise to conceal his affections from Elizabeth, where Jane had been unwise. Or was that yet another hypocrisy? He and Jane Bennet had been more alike than not in some ways.

  “It was very kind of you to alert Mr. Bingley of Jane’s presence in Town. They were able to spend a few happy months together before she perished.” They were both silent for a moment.

  “It was no more than my honour demanded.”

  Elizabeth nodded her head. She knew he believed that to be true, but she sincerely doubted any other man would do so.

  “You also made the acquaintance of the Gardiners and visited them frequently. I could not make you out and, as my friendship with Anne deepened, I asked her about you.” Elizabeth studied her hands and whispered, “She told me about Mr Wickham.”

  Tears flooded Elizabeth’s eyes. That moment of protecting her pride had cost her and the Bennets dearly. “I chose not to say anything to my family or warn them in any way. The regiment was soon leaving Meryton and, even after Lydia went away with Colonel Forster and his wife, I said not a word. Truthfully, I was ashamed of my past prejudices and did not want anyone to know. My pride brought my family terrible suffering.”

  Darcy could not bear Elizabeth’s tears, and he rose to sit beside her, giving her his handkerchief. “No, no. It was my pride. I did not wish to lay out my dealings openly before the world. I believed my character would speak for itself, but I was too blind to see how selfishly I disdained the feelings of others. I endeared myself to no one in Hertfordshire. Of course, they would all trust Wickham over me.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “We will not quarrel over who shares more of the blame.”

  Darcy could not agree but remained silent.

  “I returned to Hunsford shortly after my father died. I had not even known Mr. Collins was ill. The doctor and Lady Catherine insisted I not come enter either the Parsonage or Rosings. I…I should have been there with him. It is a wife’s duty, but I could not force myself to it. I was secretly happy with the quarantine. It absolved me of being ungenerous towards the man I married.”

  “Although you did not know it yet, you carried Janie. Would you have risked your health and hers if you could do it again?”

  Elizabeth vehemently shook her head. “No, Janie is worth it all.”

  “Then I insist you forget these reproaches.”

  Elizabeth marvelled anew at just how good and kind Darcy really was. “Until just before Anne died, I had assumed my uncle found Lydia and Wickham. But I know now that Mr. Bingley informed you of our troubles, and you risked your health. You were stricken with the fever, yet you abandoned your sick bed to find the scourge and make him marry my sister.”

  Darcy tried to speak, but Elizabeth would not allow him. “But there is more! I know all about how you arranged matters for Wickham and Lydia and for my mother and even Janie. She will not be looked over due to her lack of wealth.”

  Elizabeth’s last words were like a knife in Darcy’s heart.

  “Elizabeth, I regret so much the pain my actions caused you. If I had not counselled Bingley against your sister, you would not have married Collins. You thought only of sparing Jane. She and Bingley would not have been in London and fallen ill.”

  “No one forced me to marry Mr. Collins. Jane did not have to consider marrying him and give up on being reunited with Mr. Bingley or perhaps loving another man. He had not even made an offer for her! It was nothing but my own officious interference. I cannot truly repent it, for I love Janie so very much, but I made my own choice.”

  “You are too harsh on yourself. If I had not pushed for us to leave Netherfield, I would have eventually shared the truth about Wickham, I believe. Your youngest sister would be safe from him, they would never have eloped, causing your father to enter the city. Lord knows I was more selfish and unfeeling than Wickham could ever be.”

&
nbsp; “You cannot say such a thing!” Elizabeth cried. “Do not ever let me hear again you holding yourself responsible for that man’s actions!”

  Darcy was shocked by the intensity of her voice, especially when she continued.

  “You are the best man, the most honourable man. You must not say you are worse than he. He is in every way despicable and you…” She took a deep shuddering breath. “You are everything noble and just. You sacrifice your happiness to fulfil your duties. You care for all those in your charge, and even those for whom you have no official responsibility. You would lay down your life for those you love. You are tender and kind. What does Wickham know of these things? You made a mistake in judgement, but so have we all. Please, sir. No more of these words. You are not responsible for the fate of my family.”

  Elizabeth hoped her admiration for Darcy was obvious, and her profession of it not abhorrent; she would not repeat her elder sister’s mistake. Anne had been firm in her insistence that he loved Elizabeth and had since meeting her. Elizabeth could scarcely hope it was still true, but she did observe that he held her in some kind of particular regard. Why he would ever want her now was beyond comprehension. She spoke the truth earlier; displaying love openly was a terrifying prospect, but she had never been one to hide her true feelings. She likely would never see him again after he completed his duties as Anne’s executor, but she could not let him go without allowing him to know her heart; now it was up to him.

  Darcy sat in stunned silence for some minutes before summoning the nerve to reply. “I am exceedingly sorry; I did not think Anne could be so little trusted. I never meant for you to know. I am sorry if this information makes you feel indebted to me. I accept your thanks, but that is all I can accept.”

  Elizabeth felt as though she had been slapped. “You will not accept my love? Foolish girl! How could I ever have thought differently,” she murmured. Angry tears of rejection and impotence filled her eyes.

  Darcy closed his eyes in pain. “Nothing would make me happier than to have your love, but you offer gratitude and obligation instead. I have no wish buy your affection. I must earn it or not have you at all.”

  Elizabeth’s face revealed her disbelief. “Gratitude! Of course, I am thankful for how you helped my family, once I had learnt of it, but my love for you is of longer standing. I loved you before I knew of your involvement with Lydia’s affairs and settling my family. I loved you after I learned your character. You did the truly honourable thing in reuniting my sister with Mr Bingley; however briefly, they were together. You bore, and still bear, such abuse from Wickham. You must know he slanders your name whenever he can. You take the affront to protect your sister. I once thought you prideful, but no man of pride could bear those insults without ardent love.

  “Anne told me of your admiration, and I never believed it, but I realised you must never have despised me as I had assumed. I married a man I did not respect only out of love for my sister, and despite his professions, he did not love me. I was but a silly girl. I expected to be unhappy, but my ideas of what would bring me happiness in marriage were so abstract I could not fully mourn what I lost by marrying him. While he still lived, I began to wonder what it would be like to be truly loved, to be consumed with love. Of all the gentlemen of my acquaintance, you are the only one I have seen with that capacity. Steady but passionate, sacrificing everything for another. I see it in the way you care for your sister, in the way you revere your father and mother’s memory; in how you love your estate.

  “And I confess now to my greatest sin. I coveted that love. I wanted it for myself even while I was married to another.”

  Elizabeth’s face was scarlet, and she covered it with her hands as she shed hot stinging tears. She felt Darcy’s arms around her, engulfing her, as she had long imagined in her dreams.

  “Oh, my love. My darling Elizabeth.”

  Elizabeth looked up at him in confusion, and at last, she understood the love that had always been reflected in his eyes. She could not think clearly given her relief and leaned forward to kiss him, but he stopped her.

  “No, I want no more misunderstandings. I love you, Elizabeth. I have since nearly our first meeting. I once was arrogant and selfish, perhaps I still am. I am but a man. But I can promise you this: I already love you more each day than the last, so much so that I cannot apprehend how I still live with the crushing feelings. It does consume me. It steals my breath yet is what keeps my heart beating. I am nothing without you; nothing at all. Will you consent to be my wife? Let me love and cherish you. You and Janie both.”

  Elizabeth smiled and soon dissolved into laughter. “Oh, Fitzwilliam. You have made me the happiest creature in the world.”

  Darcy could only state his own happiness and added, “Perhaps we had to face so much sorrow to know so much joy.”

  Elizabeth responded as passionately as a woman violently in love—and finally with leave to express it and have it returned—can be supposed to do.

  Epilogue

  March 31, 1823

  Pemberley, Derbyshire

  Elizabeth looked around the blue drawing-room at Pemberley and noticed that her eldest daughter, Janie, was missing. The room was full of children invited for Janie’s tenth birthday, but it did not surprise Elizabeth that her daughter sought solitude. Another glance about revealed her husband was also missing. Elizabeth signalled to her Aunt Gardiner that she would be leaving for a few minutes and left the manor house for the garden. There was a small pond in the east garden with a tree swing that father and daughter had always claimed as their special place.

  Rounding a bend in the path, she shaded her eyes and saw their figures sitting under the tree.

  “I feel sorry for Maria Montagu, Papa,” Elizabeth heard Janie say.

  “Why is that, precious?”

  “Maria’s father died when she was little and her mother remarried a few years ago. Maria says that her new father does not love her or even like her.”

  “Maybe Maria is just angry. There are times when you are angry with me and think that I do not act out of love,” Darcy said cautiously.

  “No. He spends all his time with Maria’s little brother. He introduces him everywhere as his heir, Frederick Neville, future fifth baronet Neville.”

  “Sir Frederick might love Maria but is only bad at showing it. We ought not to judge what we do not know, dear.”

  “I know,” she said and puffed a curl from her face. “But I am not so young that I do not understand how kind you are to never make me doubt your love and acceptance of me. You never make me feel like you love Tom or Will more than us girls, or that you love Annie or Beth more than me.”

  Darcy stooped down to one knee to meet her eyes. “Let me tell you a secret about parents and their children.” Janie leaned in close, but Elizabeth knew what he said, for Darcy often told Janie. “It is always love at first sight. You are my child, Jane Joy Collins-Darcy. Loving you was never a choice.”

  They turned and both saw Elizabeth. Janie came running to her open arms while Darcy’s long legs made him arrive only a second later. “You were missed at your party, dearest.”

  “I am sorry, Mama. Sometimes I just need some time alone,” Janie said. “I am ready to go back now. Grandmother promised me some treats and Aunt Georgie and Uncle Charles said we would all sing a special song.” She ran ahead to the house.

  Darcy took a moment to stroke Elizabeth’s cheek and then gently kiss her lips. “Sometimes, I fear this is all a dream like the ones I had while we were apart. Sometimes I am afraid that you only feel gratitude for my kindness.”

  Elizabeth leaned up on her toes to run her hands through Darcy’s now graying hair and settled them on his shoulders. “I can never regret that I have Janie and I would take all the pain and sadness we had to go through before we were together to have her.”

  “You know I agree. I do not speak of regrets.”

  Elizabeth took one of his hands and placed it on her belly rounded with child. “Do not dou
bt that my love is real and I know more happiness with you than I ever knew before. We create love. Love united us before marriage and love always will.”

  The End

  Under the Apple Tree

  I grew up in the mountains of Virginia. Few things capture the comfort of autumn like a good apple does.

  October 1811

  Longbourn, Hertfordshire

  “Ruined! What do you mean ruined?”

  Elizabeth rounded a corner and heard her mother shrieking.

  “We will be turned out before Mr. Bennet is cold in his grave. There is no hope! Why bother with it at all then?”

  Usually given to ignore her mother’s cries, Elizabeth felt the current complaints a bit more genuine. “Mama, what has happened?”

  “Cook says the pastry for dessert I planned is ruined, and Mr. Bingley and the rest of the Netherfield party is to arrive any moment. There is no time to bake anything else. Mr. Bingley will see that I cannot host a proper meal and turn his attentions elsewhere. Why, Lady Lucas and Mrs. Long would just love that!”

  “Mama, I hardly think Mr. Bingley would decide upon which lady to marry given one meal at her family’s house.”

  “Oh! What do you know of these things? A man always looks to the mother to see how the daughter will fare. If I cannot keep a proper table, then he will believe Jane ignorant as well.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened in fear. Not that she worried Mr. Bingley would reject Jane on the lack of dessert, but she sincerely prayed gentlemen would not accept or reject her and her sisters due to the behaviour of her mother.

  Mrs. Bennet sobbed into her handkerchief. Desperate to cheer her, Elizabeth thought quickly.

  Patting her mother’s arm, Elizabeth soothed her. “Hush, Mama. I will go and gather some apples before the party arrives. Surely Cook can make something with them. It will be a charming country finish to your other elegant courses. He will see that Jane would be the perfect mistress to either his country or London house.”