Chapter 14

"I s the journey proving too tiresome, Mrs. Darcy?" Colonel Fitzwilliam inquired, a playful smile dancing on his lips as he glanced at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth, startled slightly by the sound of her new name, met his gaze. It sounded foreign, almost as though the name belonged to someone else."I must admit," she replied with a faint smile, "I am not accustomed to such long travels, particularly after days filled with... several unexpected events."

Mr. Darcy, who had been gazing out the carriage window in quiet contemplation, turned his attention to her. "I believe you will find our accommodations in Melton Mowbray to be quite satisfactory," he assured her, his tone measured. "The inn is comfortable, and the town itself offers a pleasant break from our journey."

Elizabeth only nodded to acknowledge that she heard him.

"But why could we not stay overnight in Hertfordshire?" Georgiana, who was sitting quietly beside her brother asked, looking between Elizabeth and Darcy.

All the eyes in the carriage turned to Darcy who didn't speak for a brief moment. His expression remained composed, though there was a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "There are certain... acquaintances in Hertfordshire whom it is best not to encounter," he finally replied, his tone revealing little. "For your sake, Georgiana, it was necessary to continue our journey without delay."

Georgiana's eyes dropped, and she seemed to shrink into herself. Elizabeth noticed the subtle shift in her demeanour and felt a pang of sympathy for the young girl. Yet, she could not help but wonder what—or whom—Darcy sought to avoid, though she refrained from asking. The unspoken tension in the carriage was enough without adding another layer of uncertainty to it.

The carriage rolled into the town of Melton Mowbray as twilight deepened over the cobblestone streets. The inn where they were to spend the night stood at the end of the main road, its windows aglow with the promise of a warm welcome.

Inside the inn, the innkeeper, a genial man with a broad smile, led them to a private dining room where a simple yet hearty meal was served. They took their seats, and Colonel Fitzwilliam wasted no time in resuming his playful banter with Elizabeth, who responded with polite but restrained smiles. Darcy, meanwhile, remained reserved, speaking little except to his cousin.

"How do you find married life, Mrs. Darcy?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked, his tone light but not unkind.

Elizabeth forced a smile. "I have hardly had time to form an opinion, Colonel," she replied, "as today marks only the beginning."

"Indeed," Fitzwilliam chuckled, "but I daresay you shall manage splendidly. After all, your wedding was planned in fewer days than it takes to make a proper pot of porridge! If that doesn't speak to your strength, I'm not sure what does!"

Elizabeth burst into genuine laughter, the Colonel's wit easing the tension she had carried with her throughout the day. Georgiana also joined in the laughter, but Darcy maintained his strict manner.

Georgiana turned to Elizabeth with a shy smile and said, "I hope you will find Derbyshire to be beautiful. I am certain you will love Pemberley as much as I do."

"I look forward to seeing it, Georgiana," Elizabeth responded with a smile, though inwardly, the thought of becoming mistress of a home brought a fresh wave of anxiety.

The meal progressed in relative silence after that, with Elizabeth retreating into her thoughts more than once. After the meal passed, Georgiana and Colonel Fitzwilliam eventually excused themselves to retire for the night. Elizabeth stood as well, turning to Darcy.

"I believe I shall retire too, Mr. Darcy," she said quietly. "The day has been long, and I find myself quite fatigued."

Darcy rose as she did, his expression inscrutable. "Of course," he replied. "I shall join you shortly after tending to a few matters."

Elizabeth nodded and, with the assistance of the innkeeper, made her way to the room that had been prepared for her. Once alone, she began to change into her nightclothes, her thoughts weighed down by the reality of her situation. The prospect of lying beside Mr. Darcy filled her with an undeniable unease, her pulse quickening with the dread of what the night might entail. It was meant to be the first act of a newly wedded couple, yet Elizabeth found herself wishing to avoid it entirely.

Thirty minutes later, Darcy departed the dining room in search of Elizabeth. He found himself ensnared in a turmoil of emotions—sensations wholly unfamiliar to a man of his customary composure—as he proceeded. He had thought this would be easier, but now, the reality of their situation pressed heavily upon him. Since the moment they were pronounced man and wife, the notion of being united in matrimony with Elizabeth Bennet, under such unforeseen and hastened circumstances, had weighed on him with increasing difficulty. He prided himself on his discernment and self-command, yet these qualities seemed to desert him in her presence, leaving him vulnerable to uncertainties he had never before encountered. How he wished he could find the words to ease her discomfort.

Even with his apology, the memory of their exchange at the assembly lingered in his mind, a bitter reminder of his own failings. How could he hope to gain her trust—dare he imagine, her affection—when his first words to her had been so thoughtless, so wounding? Now, as he approached the door of her chamber, a deep and abiding remorse settled over him, coupled with a resolve to atone for his conduct in every possible way.

He could not help but wonder if she would always regard him with the same coldness that had marked her manner since their marriage. The thought of spending a lifetime with a wife who viewed him with indifference—or worse, disdain—filled him with a quiet dread. And yet, despite these fears, a flicker of hope remained within him. During his last visit to Longbourn, he had seen in Elizabeth a spirit both lively and discerning, a mind capable of great understanding and warmth. If only he could find a way to close the distance between them, to show her that he was not merely the proud, distant man she had once thought him to be.

Darcy knocked gently on the door, and upon hearing Elizabeth's quiet invitation, he entered with measured steps, his movements deliberate as if weighing each one carefully. Once inside, he closed the door behind him, allowing a brief pause before he spoke. His voice, when it came, was soft yet filled with an uncharacteristic earnestness. "Elizabeth," he began, "I am fully aware that our marriage was born of necessity as a consequence of circumstances neither of us could have foreseen. But I want you to know that I intend to spend the rest of my days earning your favour, particularly for the way I spoke of you at the assembly. As for the future, I hope we will find a way to leave the past behind and build something beautiful together."

Elizabeth listened, her expression carefully composed, though a guardedness lingered in her eyes. She could not deny the sincerity in his words, yet her heart remained unsettled. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. "But I am quite tired, and I would like to sleep now. Perhaps we can discuss this when I am more rested."

Darcy inclined his head, accepting her gentle dismissal. "Of course," he murmured. "I shall take a bath before retiring."

With that, Darcy quietly withdrew from the room, leaving Elizabeth to her thoughts. Where she laid, her emotions swirled in a tempestuous dance. This was the second time Mr. Darcy had sought her forgiveness, yet the weight of their matrimonial bond hung over her like a dark cloud. Elizabeth longed to rid herself of her lingering disdain for him – afterall, he was now her husband, but the memory of Mr. Wickham's words, coupled with the unsettling possibility that there might be some truth to Lady Catherine's claim about Darcy being betrothed to her daughter—a promise he had conveniently set aside—kept her prejudice firmly in place. The idea of loving him, or even sharing a bed with him, was something she could scarcely bring herself to consider.

The inn had two baths, one which Darcy now occupied. in the bath, a much-needed clarity hit Darcy as the cold water struck his skin. The plan, as expected for newlyweds, had been to retire alongside Elizabeth. However, her response to his apology gnawed at him. The distance between them was undeniable, her manner still distant and guarded.

He had hoped that his heartfelt apologies might begin to mend the breach between them, yet Elizabeth seemed to view him only through the prism of past grievances. The thought of sharing a bed with her, knowing she was not willing was difficult to entertain.

He sighed heavily, making a decision he believed to be in their best interest. He could not, with any sense of propriety, impose himself upon her. Rising from the bath, he dressed quickly and sought out the innkeeper. After a brief and discreet conversation, he arranged for a separate room where he would spend the night.