by Elaine Owen
She nodded mutely.
“And will you stay with me forever?”
“Yes, William, I will.”
“William.” Darcy repeated the name wonderingly as he caressed her face, his eyes beginning to glow. “You have never called me William before.”
“I will address you differently if you like, but Fitzwilliam is too affected for me. I much prefer William.”
“William is what my mother called me,” Darcy told her. “I would be pleased if you also used it.”
“Then Elizabeth Bennet of Hertfordshire is proud to be the wife of William Darcy of Pemberley.”
“Elizabeth Darcy,” Darcy corrected her, as he bent his head toward her once more.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Darcy and Elizabeth remained locked in an embrace for many minutes, murmuring endearments to each other, until Elizabeth pulled back to look at Darcy, her eyes tracing his beloved features once again.
“Why did you not answer the letter I sent you, when I told you my feelings had changed? How did you learn about Lydia? Did Colonel Fitzwilliam tell you about her situation?”
“There are many things we need to discuss,” Darcy said, his look suddenly turning serious, “but first things first. Your hands are cold, and your maid told me you have not eaten all day. Do you feel you can eat now?”
“Cora!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “I sent her off some time ago! Where has she gone? Is she the reason you knew to come to this room?”
“Do not be too hard on your maid, please. The colonel directed me to this inn, and when I came inside I found Cora coming back from the kitchens. She directed me to your door, and I asked her not to disturb us until we called her. Would you like to have her bring dinner to us here? I find I am not in a mood to share you with everyone in the common room tonight.” Elizabeth nodded. “Then let me go find her, and I shall return as quickly as possible. After we eat, we can talk. And Elizabeth,” he added with a mischievous smile, “do not even think about leaving this room until I return, lest I be forced to track you down again.”
Elizabeth smiled back, warmed by his open affection. “I will not go anywhere without you,” she promised, and Darcy left the room quickly. While he was gone, Elizabeth took a moment to look at herself in the small mirror hanging on the wall. Her dress was mussed beyond repair, and her hair, despite her earlier attentions, had started to fall out of its pins. None of this had seemed to matter to Darcy, however, and she decided she would not let it trouble her either.
In a few minutes Darcy came back with Cora close behind. Husband and wife stood silently and a little awkwardly while their food was set out before them, and then Cora left them with a promise to return in an hour or so.
It had been so long since Elizabeth had sat at a table and shared a meal with her husband. She could not help looking at Darcy with a feeling of unreality, wondering if she had begun to imagine what her senses were now taking in. If this was a dream, she decided as Darcy pulled out her chair for her, she would prefer not to awaken. Cora had set their places across from each other at the small table, but after seating his wife Darcy moved his own chair around to be closer to her, and he did not hesitate to touch her hand lingeringly whenever they passed the simple dishes between them. The meal did not take long; and when he was done Darcy pushed his plate away from him with a satisfied sigh, and then turned to look at her again with his old admiring gaze. Elizabeth was the first to speak, however.
“You have not been eating well,” she said, looking closely at the new hollows in his cheeks.
“I would say the same of you,” Darcy responded, reaching out gently to enfold one of her hands in his. She started at the unexpected touch, which he instantly noted.
“Does this not please you?” he asked, letting his thumb caress her palm in a small circle. “I will be more reserved in my attentions if you prefer.”
“It does not displease me,” she answered, her cheeks flushing slightly. “But you are so different from what I recall. When we were first married, you were so very reserved and stern that I did not know what to make of you. You seemed so cold. I assumed you had no feelings for me, or you would have made them known at that time.”
“Dearest Elizabeth, not telling you how I felt was the first of many mistakes I made in our marriage. It is an error I intend to correct every day from now on.” He raised her hand to his lips to leave a delicate kiss. “Rest assured that I have never regarded you with anything but the warmest affection.”
The light touch on her fingers had proven surprisingly distracting. She forced herself to say, “I wish I had realized earlier that you married me for love, not because of duty. I would have approached our marriage quite differently had I known.”
“I can easily comprehend why you were so confused. Considering the differences in our circumstances in life, in our connections and in other matters which society values, I thought you would realize that only the deepest, most abiding affection would allow me to overcome such barriers and make you an offer of marriage. But I was mistaken, of course.”
Elizabeth thought she understood. “It was a sad misunderstanding, then, on both our parts.”
“No, Elizabeth.” Darcy shook his head. “Call it what it was—another instance of my arrogance and presumption. I should never have assumed that you would fall in love with me simply because I was in love with you.”
“And I should have realized early on that there was a reason you chose me to marry, out of all the women you were more likely to favor.”
Darcy reached to take both of her hands, enveloping them completely between his own. “Your hands are warmer now,” he said softly, looking at them intently. He seemed to be measuring them, bringing her fingertips in line with his one by one before twining his fingers between hers. Elizabeth did not disturb his silent perusal; and finally he looked in her face again, bringing their palms together as he spoke.
“Do you think we can talk, now, about the real reasons why we married? Or would you prefer to wait on this conversation? You have already had a long, tiring day.”
“I think,” Elizabeth responded, “considering our wretched beginning, that we have waited too long already. Any more delay might be more disastrous than it has already been!”
Darcy’s eyes brightened. “Then let us begin now.”
For ease of conversation, they moved from the small table to the settee that sat opposite the bed. Once they were settled Darcy began to speak, his voice steady and reassuring.
“The easiest way to start this, I suppose, is from the beginning. Would you agree?” At Elizabeth’s encouraging nod, he went on.
“Within a matter of days after our wedding, I could see that you were not your usual vivacious self. You were more subdued than I was used to seeing, your smiles not as rich as they had once been. Considering what had just transpired in your life, this did not greatly surprise nor trouble me. She is grieving for her father, I told myself. She has had a great deal of upheaval in a short time. Even if the more recent changes in her life have been pleasant, they have still been rapid, and anyone would need a short while to accommodate themselves to a new home, a new title, and so many new responsibilities. I hoped that the healing air of Pemberley, away from the pressures of town, would benefit you once we removed there. And for a short while, it seemed that my wishes were answered.”
“You were very kind, but I did not always appreciate your concern,” Elizabeth interjected, wanting to shoulder her share of blame from the beginning, but Darcy gently quieted her.
“I must beg your indulgence to speak my piece without interruption, Elizabeth. I will do better if I can say everything at once.” Elizabeth gave her consent, reluctantly, and he went on.
“Once we were at Pemberley, I made it my mission to raise your spirits as much as possible to their former level, and to help you acclimate to your new station. I spent as much time as I could with you, and I encouraged a friendship between you and Georgiana, thinking that the presence of one new
sister might ease your sense of loss over those you had left behind, especially Jane.
“How I enjoyed those days, Elizabeth! Showing Pemberley to you made me see my home, long familiar to me, through new eyes; watching you grow closer to Georgiana warmed my heart; seeing how quickly you learned your new duties only made me admire you more. But even though you improved somewhat, there still seemed to be something missing.
“Little by little it began to grow on me that you were not sharing yourself with me in the same way in which I tried to share myself with you. Any attempts at serious conversation, to confide intimate memories or deep feelings, you turned aside with a laugh or a change in topic. I could not penetrate a certain reserve that I sensed in you—you were a shadow without a substance. And yet you did seem to enjoy my company at times—I flattered myself that not all of your smiles were given with an effort.”
“I did start to enjoy your company, after we came to Pemberley,” she said, unable to contain herself any longer. “I began to look forward to our afternoon walks, at least. You were not deceived.”
“Did you?” Darcy half smiled. “That is good to know.” He paused as if to savor the memory once again, and then sighed heavily.
“But it wasn’t until the day we walked in the garden, while Georgiana’s gift was being delivered and I mentioned our courtship, that I began to be truly puzzled. You claimed to have no memory of us courting. How could a series of events that had meant so much to me have gone unnoticed by you? There had not been many encounters with you in Kent, that was true, but every one of them was significant to me. Could you truly have been unaware of my interest in you? Was it possible I had been so deceived? Yet you spoke with all sincerity; I did not doubt that you said only the truth as you saw it. I was still mulling over the mystery when I noticed the comet appear outside my window.
“I am not an overly romantic man, Elizabeth. Passionate poems, grand gestures of affection, and sentimental effusions do not flow from me as they do other men. But even I could see the romantic possibilities in standing outside on a dark summer night, staring at the stars and the overhead sky. If any setting were likely to help you open yourself to me, I thought, it would be at a time when we could view such a perfect union of beauty and mystery together.”
“I remember,” Elizabeth said guiltily, amazed she had not realized this before. How much of her husband was hidden from her all this time?
“That encounter, Elizabeth, opened my eyes to many things. If there were any setting where you would be likely to speak freely and confide in me, perhaps about your father, it would be there, in the stillness of the night and the intimate setting. But you thought my most tender thoughts were for my sister! It was obvious, even to my deluded wishes, that you did what I asked—engaging in conversation with me, coming to my bed—simply because I requested it of you, not because you wanted it. I had your compliance, your willing obedience, but I had not secured what I most wanted—your very heart.”
“Stop! Please stop,” Elizabeth begged, putting one hand across her eyes, as if to shield them from the light. “I cannot bear to think of how I treated you then.”
Darcy stood and began to pace across the room restlessly, his hands clasped firmly behind his back. His words came more quickly now. “After that I avoided you. I concluded that you, like all the other women of my acquaintance would do, had married me simply for my wealth, but I could not bear to ask you such a direct question, when I might receive an unimaginable answer. It was cowardly of me to avoid the topic. I even stooped so low as to blame you for having tricked me into marriage—you, who had never tried to attract my attention in any way, who had seemed almost to rebuff me at times! In my worst moments I came to believe these actions had all been carried out in a clever scheme to excite my interest, in order to gain a proposal. I blamed myself for falling victim to the supposed trickery, but I blamed you more.”
Elizabeth winced. “No wonder you were angry with me when I came to speak to you on Georgiana’s behalf.”
“Yes, I was angry, or I would never have responded in the way I did. You came to me to ask that I not push Georgiana into an unwanted alliance with Bingley. You were doing exactly as I had hoped you would—performing the offices of a friend and trusted confidante for my sister, but all I could think of was my own hurt. In my selfishness, I impugned your motives. Though I thought myself cool and collected at the time, I have since become convinced that I spoke in a dreadful fit of temper.”
Darcy stopped pacing to stand directly in front of her, his face a study in contrition. “I want you to know, Elizabeth, that I know you did not marry me for my money. When I came to my senses I realized that much at least. You are the least mercenary person I know.”
Elizabeth’s face was awash in shame; she forced herself to look up at her husband’s eyes, swallowing hard before answering. “If we are to be totally honest with each other, as painful as it is, I must admit that you were not entirely wrong in your accusation. I married you because of the security you could provide for my family. If that was mercenary, then I am as guilty as anyone else.”
Darcy sat down next to her again and took her hands in his again. “I will not allow you to berate yourself. You married me because you had no choice, given your desperate circumstances, not strictly for my money. You are not to be blamed for that.”
“But there is very little difference between that and marrying for wealth,” she protested, forcing herself to the excruciating truth. “You made an honorable offer which would protect my family, and I took it. You may choose to deny it, but I was, in fact, as cold and calculating as any lady of the Ton.”
“Elizabeth, listen to me,” Darcy said, earnestly. “Before your father died, would you have even considered marriage to me? Would you have tolerated a union with someone you did not love, someone you did not even respect, unless pushed to an extreme? You did not accept the offer of marriage from your cousin Collins, did you?”
“That does not signify!” Elizabeth exclaimed, amazed that Darcy knew the story. “You are nothing like him! I could never have married that man, no matter what the consequences!”
“But you could marry me, when the circumstances were right,” Darcy pointed out. “And your uncle made me see that you were motivated by love—a motive I understand completely, though it took me some time to understand the magnitude of the sacrifice you made. I will forever be grateful that you gave me a chance to win your affection.” He lifted his free hand to caress her cheek lightly.
“You did win my affection, and it is not fair at all to compare yourself to Mr. Collins,” Elizabeth said, half-amused and half-offended. It was difficult to think clearly when he was being so demonstrative. “You must know that between you and him, you would be the more desirable option. And Mr. Collins had already married my friend before my father died.”
“How very fortunate for me!” Darcy exclaimed, his mouth curling up mischievously. Elizabeth, sitting so close to him, could not help observing how very handsome he was, especially when he looked at her that way. He leaned in to kiss her, but Elizabeth playfully pulled away.
“You have avoided my curiosity long enough, sir,” she said, with a trace of her former impertinence. “Ever since I first knew of it, I have been longing to ask about your acquaintance with my uncle. How did you come to call on him in town? And why did you do it?”
“It was the closest I could come to you,” he replied simply, not taking his eyes from her. “I did not think you would welcome me again, if I were to return home.”
Elizabeth felt her heart leap at the unexpected revelation.
“And I had also decided to find out, if I could, the truth about why you married me, once and for all. To do so it seemed to make sense for me to speak to the man who had been most involved in forwarding our marriage, to ask him how he had presented my proposal to you. The results of that conversation were—enlightening.” He paused, searching for words. “To use your own turn of phrase, you might say that your un
cle and I had a spirited conversation.”
“Indeed.” Elizabeth raised one eyebrow. Despite the gravity of the moment, she could not help a small smile. “It must have ended well, since you are now on easy terms.”
“We are now, but it did not look hopeful at first. Your uncle reminded me that when I first asked him for your hand, I said nothing of love. I spoke of an early wedding date and of the arrangements to care for your family, and that was what he had relayed to you. He said nothing of love or affection to you because I had said nothing about it to him. He told you what he believed a man in my position expected from a marriage. I hope you know by now that I am not a typical man of the Ton.”
Darcy put both of his hands to her face, letting his thumbs lightly trace her cheekbones while he gazed into her eyes. “I wanted something quite different from our relationship.”
He bent his head toward her once again, but a discreet knock sounded on the door at just that moment. Elizabeth, suddenly fearful, rose at once. “That must be Cora, coming for our dinner things,” she said, sounding a little breathless even to her own ears. “I should let her in.”
She opened the door swiftly, and Cora entered without comment, silently arranging the plates, bowls, and cutlery into a neat pile and taking a moment to wipe off the table. While she did this Darcy and Elizabeth stood quietly by, observing each other gravely over her back. Darcy’s eyes, dark and impenetrable, gave no hint of his thoughts. Did he know everything that her uncle had told her to expect from their marriage? If he did not, how would he react when she told him? For there was no choice, now, but to be completely honest about the relationship she had thought they would have.
Cora finished her task, readying the items to return downstairs, and then she looked at Elizabeth expectantly.
“Shall I turn the bed down for you, ma’am?”
As one, Darcy and Elizabeth turned their heads to look at the bed in the center of the room, a larger version of the cot set up in one corner. The question of their sleeping arrangements for the night had not been addressed. The bed with its single pillow and heavy counterpane was large enough for one person but not for two; and if one of them, presumably Darcy, chose to use the cot, where would Cora stay? Darcy cleared his throat.