They both said at the same time. The ice was broken, and they both smiled.
Darcy could not contain himself any longer, and spoke with haste,
“Elizabeth, in a few days, we will be man and wife. I understand that our betrothal came as an unwelcome shock to you, and I also realise my proposal was woefully lacking in all areas. I am ashamed to recall what I said to you, though my sentiment was genuine. Nevertheless, I had hoped, that in time, you would return some of that regard. My intention was for us to spend this last fortnight together, to become better acquainted before the wedding. I wanted you to know the real me, not the wary persona I present to strangers and new acquaintances. However, fate seemed to have other plans for us, and it has not quite turned out as I expected.” Darcy paused to gather his thoughts, then, choosing his words with extra care, he continued,
“Though, at the risk of being indelicate, I would remind you that we have enjoyed a few moments of quiet intimacy. There appeared no negative repercussions then, or since, and this has given me cause to hope. Since you left Airwhile House, Elizabeth, I have found that nothing is the same. The house is just a house, breakfast is just food, and even reading holds no pleasure for me.”
At this point, Darcy put Elizabeth’s book aside and knelt on the damp leaves before her. Taking hold of Elizabeth’s hand, he placed it over his heart and held it there with his own.
“Elizabeth, I love you, I miss you. I want to show the world how much I love you, that you are my reason for living. But unless you return my affection, I must be silent on this matter forever. Therefore, I have come to ask you again, with no reference to your father, only from my own heart, will you consent to be my wife, Elizabeth, of your own free will, to come to me with a full and equal heart?”
Elizabeth felt a rush of emotion. She wanted to cry and laugh at the same time, but she had the breath for neither. How her feelings had changed in such a short period of time, she did not know, but change they had? Only a few weeks ago her pledge to marry for only the deepest kind of love had seemed an impossibility, but now, with her heart about to burst with love and affection, her dream had come true. Fitzwilliam Darcy loved her, and she loved him.
Now, more than anything, she wanted to feel Darcy’s arms around her, to let his lips take possession of her mouth in the most unladylike fashion.
But first, she must remove her mask of indifference and reveal her true feelings to him.
Lifting Darcy’s hand, she placed it over her own heart, anxious that he too could feel how wildly her heart raced.
“Elizabeth?” Darcy questioned, unwilling to make the same mistake twice.
“I cannot remember the day or the time nor the look or the words, that laid the foundation of my affection. I was in the middle before I knew it had begun. But I know now, that I love you, so very dearly. My answer is yes, a thousand times, yes, Fitzwilliam. I would be honoured to marry you,” Elizabeth replied breathlessly.
In a flurry of movement, Darcy rose and swept Elizabeth up into his arms, twirling them both around as they laughed happily together. Then, as Darcy gently lowered Elizabeth back to the ground, their mood turned to one more of romance.
Darcy paused to brush a stray curl from her face, and then, as he slowly lowered his mouth to hers, he whispered,
“My dearest, loveliest Elizabeth.”
Epilogue
Five days, they had been married five whole days before Darcy had made her his wife, and now she understood the physical enjoyment that came with being married; she couldn’t be happier.
On the eve of their wedding, Darcy had taken her to one side and tenderly explained that he wanted them to wait until they arrived at Pemberley before they first joined together, physically, after they were married.
“My darling, I had intended for us to spend our first night as man and wife at Airwhile house, but as you are aware, that is not possible now. Knowing of our predicament, Charles offered us the use of Netherfield House until we moved to my estate in the north, but again, it was not how I wanted us to begin our life together.” He paused to lift her chin and place a gentle kiss on her soft lips.
Elizabeth knew that her future husband was only thinking of her, but if not Airwhile, or Netherfield Park then where were they to start their life together? Surely, he could not be thinking of here, at Longbourn with her family around them?
“Then…here, at Longbourn?”
Darcy’s tone and words expressed perfectly what he thought of that idea.
“Good God, Elizabeth, Longbourn is that last place I would consummate our union!”
She blushed as a wave of relief washed over her when he ruled out her family home, but she could think of nowhere else for them to go, except…,
“Then perhaps an Inn?” she asked nervously.
Darcy ran his hand over her cheek and then cupped her face in his palm.
“No, my love. A roadside Inn, even if well run and recommended, is not a fit place to start ones married life. No, I have given this matter much thought, Elizabeth, and come to realise that in truth, we have spent very little time alone together, even while in London it was not above a few hours at most.”
Elizabeth agreed. Things had not gone well during her stay in the capital, and apart from their one night at Almack’s, they had always had a chaperone in the form of Georgiana or Richard.
“I thought, with your agreement, Elizabeth, that we might journey directly to Pemberley after the wedding breakfast.”
Elizabeth was taken aback by his statement.
“How…how long will it take?”
“Four, maybe five days if you would like to visit some of the grand houses along the way.”
Elizabeth lowered her head. Was it normal to wait so long to become man and wife in the full sense of the words? She did not think so. But it was a subject she could not raise, even with her future husband. It would be unthinkable for a lady to mention the marriage bed, even if one thought about it!
“And this is what you want, sir?” she quietly asked.
Darcy had tried to convey his intention to her with discretion but had made a bad job of it. Now, through no fault of her own, Elizabeth, feared he no longer found her desirable. Little did she realise that nothing could be further from the truth. His passion and desire for her burned as bright as ever, coursing through his veins like hot lava, but still, he could not deny they were all but strangers.
This time, as they made their way north, could be used to become better acquainted, to be friends before they became lovers. It was not ideal, yet he thought it a workable solution to their current predicament. Besides, it had been his experience in the past that to enjoy the act of lovemaking, it was essential to be on more intimate terms with your partner than he currently was with Elizabeth. He wanted to slowly awaken her to the pleasure that a man could give to a woman, and not feel ashamed or embarrassed by it.
“No, not really,” he said with a rueful smile, “but I think we could make good use of the time. To become better acquainted, more…comfortable with one another.”
Finally, Elizabeth understood his meaning and felt a surge of love at his thoughtfulness.
“Then I think it is a splendid idea, too,” she said, and she meant it.
So, after the couple had waded through the vast numbers of farewells they had to endure, it was finally time to escape from Longbourn and set off on their journey north.
It had been a long day, and as the carriage made its way along the roads, the fading light together with the gentle swaying of the vehicle, soon made Elizabeth’s eyelids droop.
Darcy, who cradled her in his arms, placed a tender kiss on her hair and held her even tighter, happy and content to watch over her as she slept.
On each of their four-day journey, Darcy took Elizabeth the visit one of the grand houses along their route. Conveniently, he was acquainted with all the owners, and though he had the offer to stay with them all, Darcy elected to lodge at the upmarket inns alone their way. His
reason, he explained to Elizabeth, was in his opinion, there was no other group of people worse for gossiping than the nobility. And he did not want them to be the topic of conversation at anyone’s dinner table.
First, they visited Althorp in Nottinghamshire, where Darcy chatted amicably to George Spencer, the second Earl of Althorp. Next, they paused to enjoy a brief tour of Belton House, owned at this time by, John Cust, the newly appointed First Earl of Brownlow. Unfortunately, he was away from home when they called. And finally, they visited Chatsworth House, where the sixth Duke of Devonshire, William Cavendish, personally accompanied them as they wandered around the house and gardens.
On the evening of the fourth day of their journey, they arrived at Darcy’s ancestral home; Pemberley.
The servants, headed by Mr and Mrs Reynold, lined the steps leading up to the main doors, each offering their congratulations and good wishes as Darcy and Elizabeth acknowledged their welcome.
Now they were here, Darcy wanted to show his wife everything, to spend every second with her, and lavish her with all his love and attention.
“I’ve had a light supper prepared, sir, and will bring it up to your sitting room when convenient,” said Mrs Reynolds tactfully.
“Thank you, Mrs Reynolds, but I believe we would like to wash away the dust from the road first,” he said.
“I suspected as much sir. There is a tub of hot water in both your dressing rooms.” The housekeeper turned to address Elizabeth now, saying, “I have allocated Milly to act as your lady’s maid, Mrs Darcy, at least until you make your own selection.”
Acknowledging her kindness, Darcy and Elizabeth then mounted the stairs. He led her to her suite of rooms and waited as she took a few minutes to look around the bedchamber. Then he gave her a tour of her dressing room and on to their shared sitting room.
“And my accommodation,” he said in a low tone, “is through this door.”
Elizabeth slipped in front of him and opened the door. First, to observe his dressing room and then to explore his bedroom.
It was masculine, which was to be expected, but not completely without a woman’s touch. A vase of flowers stood on the sideboard, a dusky pink chaise lounge rested along one wall, while the bed has a cream and gold topper. These feminine touches, she guessed, were the work of Mrs Reynolds. She liked it, which was probably just as well. She had a feeling this would be where she would spend most of her nights.
“Now,” he said, “I think it is time to take advantage of Mrs Reynolds forethought. When you have finished bathing, I will have supper brought up to the sitting room.”
Elizabeth smiled, looking up at him through her long eyelashes, then hurried back to her room.
Darcy, meanwhile, rang for Fletcher.
Elizabeth again looked down at her sleeping husband. This is my husband.
In repose, his face was relaxed and looked softer, more boy like than an adult man. The growth of a full night’s stubble cast a dark shadow on his cheeks and chin and upper lip, yet it did nothing to detract from his handsome, chiselled features. Only one stray curl fell across his otherwise clear forehead, daring to break ranks and single itself out for her attention. She brushed it back into place, then held her breath as Darcy stirred at her touch.
He rolled over and clamped his arm around her waist, drawing her near to him.
Elizabeth smiled to herself. It felt so natural to be drawn into his embrace. To feel his naked skin on hers, and his warm breath on her face.
She leant forward and placed a feather light kiss on his lips, hoping not to disturb him. They had spent half of the night making love and the other half talking.
“Unless you want me to make love to you again, Elizabeth, I suggest you desist with your present course of action,” he said, his eyes still shut tightly, but with a smile on his lips.
Having been awakened to the pleasures of lovemaking, both for a man and for a woman, Elizabeth knew exactly what she was doing when she again, kissed her husband on the mouth, then gave his lip a soft tug with her teeth.
Darcy opened his eyes just enough to see the playful invitation that danced over Elizabeth’s face.
“You minx,” he said in a teasing voice, “now you must pay the price.”
Darcy was fully awake now and rolled atop of his wife in one seamless move.
Elizabeth squealed with laughter, pulling him towards her, and searching for his lips with her own.
Someday soon, they must get up and face the world, but for now, and several days more, Mr and Mrs Fitzwilliam Darcy stayed confined to their rooms. Learning to love, and making love to each other, until death does them part.
The End
Mr Darcy’s Struggle
Elizabeth felt tense as they approached Lucas Lodge. Darcy had insisted that she rode with him and Georgiana. She was pleased with not having to endure the overcrowding of the Bennet carriage, and she must get used to travelling with Darcy, but still, the closeness of him tonight made her uneasy. His dark, penetrating eyes rarely left her face. She had tried to make polite conversation with them both, but Georgiana was too excited at the prospect of attending a real ball, and Darcy was unwavering in his attention and replied only curtly. As they pulled up to the entrance, the footman jumped down to help the ladies out of the carriage, but Darcy brushed him aside and completed the task himself.
Once inside and relieved of their cloaks, Darcy admired Elizabeth’s gown. The underlayer was pure white and reached the floor, where her matching slippers peeped out. The sheer overlayer was decorated with small silver flowers and leaves, intricately woven into the fabric. Her dark locks were in the Grecian style with silver-headed pins holding it in place. She was stunning; he was under no illusion that he would be the envy of every man here tonight. He glanced around the room, and then frowned; there were too many people, too many men. The prospect of other men coveting his fiancée was extremely distasteful to him.
He must also be circumspect over Georgiana. As she was not yet ‘out,’ Darcy should have refused her plea to accompany them, but he saw no harm in her attending a small family gathering. Of course, she would not be able to dance with anyone other than Richard and himself, but she was content with this arrangement. Her delicate features glowed with excitement, and it made her look younger than her sixteen years. The delicate gown of lemon, with small green vines growing up from the hem, suited her perfectly. He would have his work cut out this evening, ensuring the wellbeing of both his ladies. As usual, Darcy was dressed impeccably, with his waistcoat complementing Elizabeth’s dress perfectly, embroidered with a pattern of silver knots.
Sir William and Lady Lucas greeted them, offering felicitations on their upcoming nuptials. Then Sir William bade them enjoy their last night as single people, and he winked at Darcy. It was kindly meant, but inappropriate with two unwed females at his side. Sir William tended to put into words, sentiments that should remain thoughts, but his jolly demeanour showed it was said in jest, and not with malice. Charlotte and Mr Collins welcomed them next, and Darcy’s brow furrowed again. He offered the clergyman the curtest of nods in acknowledgement of his greeting, then swept the women into the ballroom. Elizabeth was mortified that he had let Mr Collins’s presence affect him so. She alone understood the reason behind his action, yet to others, it would appear as though he had been excessively rude. She would have to remind him that his actions now reflected on her, too.
It turned out to be more than the intimate gathering she had been led to believe, but at least most of the guests were friends or family. Spying Colonel Fitzwilliam, she hoped he would ask her to dance; they had enjoyed a warm friendship when both in Kent.
Elizabeth watched as Georgiana gently disengaged herself from her brother’s arm and went to talk to Elizabeth’s younger sisters, who were now standing with Maria Lucas. She felt a pang of envy at how carefree and happy they seemed and longed to join them as they laughed and chatted together. Six short weeks ago, she could have done just that, she thought ruefully
.
Elizabeth and Darcy would be expected to open the dancing, but she knew he did not care for such frivolities. Charles had once told her, ‘Darcy never lifts a hoof, even though he is most proficient in all aspects of the dance.’ A sigh escaped her as she realised if Darcy did not take her to the floor, she could accept no other man’s offer. It would be an unpardonable breach of protocol. No, she must resign herself to enjoying it vicariously. Slyly glancing over at her escort, she noted that yes, he was still watching her, only now his piercing stare was accompanied by a smile. As the musicians struck the chords for the minuet, he bowed and asked,
“Miss Bennet, may I have the honour of the first dance?”
Elizabeth was taken aback by his offer, and for a moment, words failed her. Her surprise must have registered on her face, and she stumbled over her reply.
“I did not, that is, I did not think that…. yes, I thank you.”
Darcy raised both brows in a questioning pose and then held out his hand. She placed her hand in his, and mutely they walked to the dance floor. Uncomfortably conscious that all eyes were upon them, Elizabeth realised every step, every expression would be scrutinised by the people assembled. With Darcy’s intense dislike for large gatherings, or being the centre of attention, she felt more than a little nervous. The music started, and they performed the customary salute before meeting, circling, and returning several times as the dance dictated. Fellow revellers slowly joined them, and Elizabeth observed Darcy’s shoulders relax, happier to now be one of many. As the dance continued, she realised Charles was right, Darcy was indeed an excellent dancer and conducted the steps with an easy air.
“Sir, you dance with an abundance of style and grace; why do you dislike it so?” she asked playfully.
“You are mistaken, Madam. I do not dislike dancing; I enjoy it a great deal. It is that I find it difficult to secure a partner who meets my standard,” Darcy said honestly. “I recall the first time I saw you dance; it was with the imbecile Collins. He was out of time, and trod on your slipper, dislodging a flower.”
To Love Mr Darcy Page 16