Chapter 30

CHAPTER THIRTY

E lizabeth's removal to London in February had ended one of Meryton's more promising topics of gossip, though it was filled briefly by Kitty and Mary's flirtations, Jane's engagement, and the theft of a pregnant sow from Mr Robinson's farm. Elizabeth's return to Longbourn was welcomed with little notice; Jane's wedding to Mr Bingley was, as ensured by Mrs Bennet, the most important topic at any gathering of more than two ladies.

Thus when the banns were called for Elizabeth and Darcy the following Sunday, they were immediately beset with curious glances. Along with hearty congratulations, whispers of ‘Elizabeth is won' and assurances that it was true—‘she actually said yes?' followed them around Meryton an entire week.

In the first days of their engagement, the couple were so deliriously happy that all else faded into insignificance. Darcy could ignore the bitter glances sent his way by Miss Bingley, Elizabeth could acquiesce to whatever inanity or idea was proposed by Mrs Bennet. The curious glances, rampant gossip, and shameless observations which followed them everywhere they went mattered not at all. The ladies of Meryton, including two mothers whose sons had long ago admired Lizzy Bennet before growing to adulthood and finding wives, talked amongst themselves. It was supposed by them, naturally, that Elizabeth had accepted the ‘charmless but rich' gentleman only for his fortune and consequence—and under threat of her father's ultimatum. Why else would she have finally accepted a proposal unless forced to? Mr Darcy's motivations were less clear; surely, a wealthy young man who already managed his own estate, and was handsome besides, had met many rich, pretty young ladies. Had his disagreeableness put off their fathers?

In short, the question was: How and why had Elizabeth Bennet and Mr Darcy come together?

She seemed to actually enjoy his company—her eyes rarely left him and she was always sitting or standing or strolling beside him. And she looked so luminously happy. But he showed no greater sign of affection than a softness about the eyes, an upturned lift to his lips that resembled a smile, and a distinct partiality for her company.

Finally, one evening, as the group sat in the Philipses' drawing room, Mrs Goulding sighed. "Henry calls it a good match, and it is plain to me that Miss Elizabeth loves him, perhaps even more than her sister loves Mr Bingley."

Mrs Long laughed meanly. "You are supposing then that Miss Elizabeth proposed to him?"

Overfull with amusement for all she had overheard that evening and in the past week, Elizabeth winked at her betrothed, leant between the two ladies and said gaily, "Oh, I did."

Elizabeth had assured Darcy that even in this less-elevated level of society, people tended to be much the same. Yes, the inhabitants of Meryton might possess less refinement than Darcy had ever witnessed in Mayfair, but she avowed there were as many ridiculous people amongst her neighbours as he knew within his own circle to provide him adequate familiarity and amusement. He did his best, especially when separated, not to display the aggrieved resignation he often felt while enduring the scrutiny of the neighbourhood, and to remind himself—as she often did—that he was a fortunate man indeed to have won the heart of such a ridiculous creature as she.

Darcy basked in that smile while he listened to Mr Robinson and Mr Long debate the Corn Laws and like Mr Bennet and Sir William before them, turn to him for his opinions. He had wearied of the activities of the past days; all he wished to do was spend time alone with Elizabeth, to talk and laugh and plan their life together, and perhaps kiss a little more. Being on display to satisfy the overly curious neighbours made his skin itch. However, he knew it must be done—he had won the heart and hand of Meryton's most sought-after maiden, and dispelling any rumours and displaying their mutual affection was paramount.

If only we could display it alone .

With his resolution in mind, Darcy attempted to enjoy what pleasures could be gained. Though he might not appreciate the attention bestowed upon them, he thoroughly enjoyed observing Elizabeth's happiness and easy camaraderie with her friends and neighbours. Occasionally, and seemingly for no other reason beyond lifting his spirits, she looked across the room to smile brightly at him, a smile which he quickly reciprocated, if a little less brightly, before both returned their attentions towards their separate conversations.

He would have to endure it only a little longer before leaving for town. Abandoning her only days after winning her hand, with their joy to celebrate—and Collins still in Meryton—was unthinkable. He used his hours at Netherfield to write letters, announcing his engagement to Georgiana and Richard, to his aunt and uncle, to Anne, and, most formally, to Lady Catherine. If he had left his aunt in doubt of his intentions towards Elizabeth Bennet, it had been meant only to protect Elizabeth. Now it was a certainty and he could put it to paper. He would leave it to Elizabeth, sometime in the future, to decide the terms of their connexion to his aunt and Rosings. In his letter, he wrote:

I shall marry Miss Elizabeth Bennet in June. We shall go immediately to Pemberley with Georgiana. I have written to Anne as well and wish her nothing but peace and happiness, just as I wish for yourself.

He tapped his pen, and suddenly recalling the words previously written in another's hand, went to his travelling writing desk. Pulling out the letter he had found in the carriage, he copied a slightly altered version of Elizabeth's lines onto his own missive.

I have offended you with my actions possibly as much as you have offended me with your words and behaviours. I could forgive your pride, if you had not mortified mine. Sometime in the future, I might make the effort, for selfishness must always be forgiven if there is no hope of a cure.

Lastly, I thank you for your hospitality at Rosings, and promise never again to plague you by my presence unless a promise is made to honour and respect my wife. Until then, I ask one favour—be kind to Mrs Collins, for she is all goodness and speaks only of her respect for you and Rosings.

He stared at the letters, ensured they were dried and sanded, sealed them, and tossed them in his secretary.

"I must go to town to settle our affairs." After a distracted pause, he added, "And I need to inform my family."

"I hope they receive the news with pleasure," Elizabeth replied quietly.

"Georgiana and Colonel Fitzwilliam are in town, so they will be the first to know," Darcy responded, neatly avoiding the response he feared from his other relations. The letters he had written remained unsent; embarrassed by his inability to write of his happiness with any measure of equanimity or even with a steady hand, he had decided them to be his ‘practise letters'. Besides, it was hardly just to tell Georgiana his happy news and expect her to remain silent until he had told anyone else, so he instead posted short letters to her and Richard, telling them only that he would soon be in town. After they had celebrated, he would inform his aunt and uncle and tell them of Elizabeth's worth and charm and value to him. Then, finally, he would post his letters to Lady Catherine and Anne.

"I do not know how I shall leave you," he said quietly.

Elizabeth took his hand and placed it on her heart. "You will not. You are here." Then, wrapping her arm in his, she assured him, "I shall miss you, but you will not miss the shopping and the planning. We have given my mother only five weeks to plan ‘the grandest wedding in all of Hertfordshire'."

"I am happy to ease her burden and make it three weeks."

"I am sure you are, but I should not like Mrs Jane Bingley and her husband to cut short their wedding trip in order to come to our wedding." She turned to him. "How long will you be gone?"

"I shall leave early tomorrow, and hope to return within four days. I shall bring Georgiana with me, now that Netherfield is quieter."

"Please tell her I look forward to meeting her. And please give Colonel Fitzwilliam my regards," Elizabeth said with a smile Darcy wished held a little less enthusiasm. He knew her heart was his, but until her name was his as well, he could be a little foolish in his jealousy.

Foolishness and jealousy were unfounded, for the connexion that deepened into mutual admiration in a dank boat-house and strengthened in the fields of Kent scarcely needed vows and bands of gold to affirm it. But weeks later, on a sunny late June morning, they were wed and Miss Elizabeth Bennet was no longer to be pursued nor gossiped about as a lady in need of a husband.

That evening, ensconced in their rooms in London, Darcy was fully intent on showing his wife a passion that would not fade with familiarity or become evanescent as a passing cloud. When he spoke heartfelt words of adoration and love, his breath was still a bit hurried and his eyes a little wild.

A small smile came to Elizabeth's lips as he whispered his precious endearments, and she tilted her head to meet his soft gaze. "You know I feel the same. You are the dearest person to my heart, and you grow dearer still."

Her words seemed to affect him deeply, on a day already filled with heightened emotion. "My darling Elizabeth," he murmured, as she moved to kiss him. Eventually, they grew still and the sounds of the crackling fire replaced their whispers.

Their ease as friends and lovers was such that the new husband and wife agreed the failings and mistakes made by certain members of their families would not determine how they would live their life together.

"Our daughters," Darcy told Elizabeth on their second day of marriage, while still abed and delighting one another with caresses, compliments, and confidences, "will marry good men, not because of ultimatums or ill-conceived arrangements with other families, but because we shall raise them to know their own hearts and respect their own minds, and to recognise their worth."

She smiled, and continued tracing a lazy circle on his chest. "And our sons? You will teach them not to woo a girl with cheese or pretty compliments on how they cut their meat?"

He laughed, and drew her into his embrace. "I knew nothing of wooing and romance until I met you. You taught me, and you shall have to teach them as well."

Elizabeth touched his cheek, rough with his morning whiskers, and looked into his soft, loving eyes. She could feel the power and strength in the arms, but the gentleness of his touch and his tender kisses revealed the other side of his true self, the side hidden to all but her.

For all her previous fears of being wed to the wrong man, here, with her beloved Darcy, she would always be safe and adored.