Chapter 46

Walking back to the house with Elizabeth, their hands clasped together, Darcy learnt that Bingley had not yet returned from London but was expected later that day. They spoke further; however, they did not touch on any difficult subjects. For his part, it was enough to be with her and to know that she still loved him. It was a miracle, but she assured him he had understood her perfectly and that they would be married. Whether that was in a day or a year, she was his forevermore.

She said, “I cannot tell you how many times I have told myself to forget about what we had, that I had to put you into my past, only to realise my heart still belonged to you. After last month, I was certain I would be able to do it, but all it took was seeing you walk towards me to know I was mistaken once again.”

He kissed her hand. “I often made similar vows. I did not try to convince myself that I did not love you, but rather that I was a fool to hold on to hope that our marriage would ever be possible.”

Once at Netherfield, they sat with Mrs Bingley, who observed both of them carefully but asked no questions. She sat a little too stiffly until Elizabeth whispered something to her, then she grinned. As they drank lemonade and partook of a light meal, Mrs Bingley led them in an easy, friendly conversation.

Bingley arrived in the early afternoon and burst into the drawing room. He took in the three occupants, then strode in Darcy’s direction.

“I am glad you are here!” He thrust out a hand, and when Darcy took it, he shook it vigorously. “I was delighted when the butler told me. I believe my response shocked him. Oh!”

He swung around to face his wife.

“My dear Jane, can you forgive me for not greeting you first? How inconsiderate I am! It is just that?—”

“I understand,” Mrs Bingley said, sounding and looking serene, as she usually did.

In her place, his Elizabeth would have made a joke at his expense. Darcy knew which approach he preferred. He met Elizabeth’s eye, and they exchanged a smile that said more than words would have.

“And everything is as it should be?” Bingley looked between Elizabeth and him. “Everyone is…pleased?”

Elizabeth laughed, stood, and went to embrace her brother-in-law. “Yes, everything is exactly as it was always meant to be.” Meeting Darcy’s eye and then her sister’s, she added, “For the remainder of today, I would like to simply enjoy the four of us being together. I cannot tell you how often I have imagined this—three of the people I care most for in the world and I doing nothing more than talking and being happy.”

She reserved her largest smile for him, and for perhaps the twelfth time that day, Darcy was close to crying in relief and joy. She would be his wife, the Bingleys his brother and sister, their children would grow up together, Georgiana would be well, and all was right with his world.

Elizabeth did not sleep much that night. Her life had taken a drastic turn, one she genuinely had not foreseen happening, and, once again, she had to redraw what her future would be. For the first time in almost a year, she was overjoyed with the prospect. She was at liberty to love her Mr Darcy and anticipate their life together.

There were no more obstacles in their path. Or just about none. She could not forget his sister’s fragility, and as much as she wanted to marry him as soon as it could be arranged, she needed to ensure nothing they did would pose a threat to Miss Darcy’s well-being.

Her joy was compounded by Jane and Bingley’s satisfaction with the situation. Elizabeth had found a private moment to speak to Jane and had a longer conversation with Bingley after dinner.

“I suppose you know I encouraged Darcy to come and see you. Did I do right?” Bingley had said.

“Yes, my darling brother, you most certainly did. Have you forgiven him for not telling you about our attachment and Miss Darcy’s struggles?”

“Goodness, yes.” Bingley had laughed. “I could hardly not be friends with him when you are going to marry him. I have an inkling you and Darcy belong together the same way Jane and I do. I may not have known you and Darcy loved each other until last month, but now I do, and when you told us of Miss Darcy’s letter, it made me wonder whether perhaps the two people I most admire, apart from Jane, could find happiness together. Darcy deserves it, and you deserve a man who will love you as much as he does.”

“I shall endeavour to be worthy of him, but I know that—as much effort as I put into it—I shall never deserve such a wonderful brother,” Elizabeth had said, accompanying her statement with a hug.

Throughout the night, Elizabeth debated with herself what the following weeks and months should be like. Her situation with Mr Darcy was not easy, but she did not want to add more complications to it than were necessary. She supposed she felt a little bruised after everything that had happened, but her chief concern was Miss Darcy.

I want to know that she will not change her mind, ending with me facing the anxious countenances of her family, all of whom want me to disappear as a consequence.

That might be unfair to Miss Darcy, but everything she knew and had witnessed of her struggles left Elizabeth feeling unusually cautious. At the same time, she wanted to be Mrs Darcy and have the right to call Mr Darcy her husband, to enter Pemberley as his wife, and to—at long last—begin their lives together.

Before much longer, she devised a scheme she would suggest to him in the morning. Then, she spent the rest of the night dreaming of him, both when she was awake and when she finally drifted off to sleep.

As he had crawled into bed, Darcy had been certain sleep would be impossible. Yet, he slept very well and had sweet dreams of his future with Elizabeth all night. He supposed he had been over-exhausted after having spent the previous two days worrying about what he would say to her and having serious conversations with his family, especially Georgiana and Fitzwilliam. His sister had been even more resolved the day after their initial discussion.

“I have hoped for weeks that you and Miss Bennet might reconcile. Even when she was at Pemberley, I hated the thought that she might marry Mr Grey, because she was meant to marry you,” she had said. “If there is anything I can do to assure her I would be glad to have her as my sister, I shall.”

He and Fitzwilliam had spoken for above an hour, and he was more hopeful than ever that they would be friends again and find a way to overcome the disagreements of the past year.

Darcy was out of bed and sitting in a conspicuous spot early the following morning. The housekeeper had been kind enough to bring him tea, toast, and some fruit in the drawing room. He wanted to be where Elizabeth could easily find him.

Sure enough, she came down shortly after seven o’clock. The smile she gave him was almost enough to make him forget his gentlemanly manners. Instantly, the world was brighter. He leapt out of his chair, closed the distance between them, and drew both of her hands to his mouth to kiss. If he were not worried about being seen and creating gossip, he would have kissed her properly.

Her eyes danced with merriment. “Good morning,” she said, still smiling.

“Good morning, my love. Did you sleep well?”

She did her best to suppress a yawn, then laughed. “I did not. I was too happy for sleep. But if you say you did sleep well, I promise I shall not take it as a sign that your sentiments are less fervent than mine.”

She quickly finished the cup of tea he prepared for her and ate half a piece of toast then said, “Shall we go for a walk? It looks like the weather will be fine today.”

It had been far too long since Darcy had the pleasure of a gentle stroll with Elizabeth, her arm wrapped around his—apart from the day before, when in truth he had been too disbelieving that she had forgiven him to fully appreciate it. He had struggled to accept he was not trapped in a fantasy while also drinking in each moment of the first truly joyful day he had experienced in longer than he could recall. This morning, he would have relished their walk if they talked of nothing other than the clear cerulean sky or the birds and other small animals they saw as they wandered aimlessly. But she had more to say than that, and he was not at all displeased by it.

After they had been walking for perhaps ten minutes, she said, “Since you are here and Bingley, Jane, and I are leaving Netherfield soon, you should speak to my father. I do not need his permission, being of age, but still, you should request it, and his blessing, of him. He might be surprised, but he will not say no.”

She stopped walking, caressed his cheek, and gently kissed him. They broke apart just as it was on the cusp of becoming too passionate.

“I love you, Fitzwilliam Darcy, and nothing will bring me more joy than to be your wife.”

Darcy rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes for a brief moment before kissing her and saying, “I love you, Elizabeth Bennet, and nothing would make me happier than to be your husband.”

With one more kiss, they resumed their walk.

“Now, I do have a condition. Or it might be more properly considered a related series of stipulations,” she said.

He encouraged her to continue, knowing he would agree to whatever she had decided was necessary or appropriate.

“The most important one is that I believe we should delay actually getting married for a short while.”

“You do?” If she felt it was necessary to wait, he would, though he would like to understand why.

“I do,” she repeated. “While part of me would like nothing more than to march to the church this minute and demand the vicar marry us, I believe it would be wrong. I should spend more time with your sister. The more she becomes familiar with me, the easier she will be, and, truthfully, I shall worry less that she will…perhaps not change her opinion but be uncomfortable with me, and I do not wish that. It would make all three of us unhappy. There is the matter of your other relations, but that is not as significant. Except for Colonel Fitzwilliam, given how close he and Miss Darcy are.”

“He feels terrible for how he acted. We had a long conversation two days ago, and he fully supports our marriage. He asked me to tell you that he intends to apologise when next you see each other. As for Lord and Lady Romsley, they will love you.”

“I hope you are correct. I even believe that you are, but I shall be far more confident entering into my new life as your wife after we have an opportunity to know each other better. Besides, another couple will soon be married, and it is enough to have one wedding in a family at a time. I am very happy for Rebecca and Lord Bramwell.”

“As am I. You do know that Bramwell already likes you, do you not?”

“I like him too, and I am delighted he will be my cousin. Do not tell him, but I am even more pleased that Rebecca will be.”

“Oh, I certainly shall ensure he knows that you prefer Rebecca to him. Bramwell needs taking down a peg or two, though he is so enamoured of my cousin, he might simply agree with you and spend the following hour explaining all the reasons he admires her. He forgets sometimes that I have known her since she was an infant.”

“Ah, but he is in love. I shall be offended if you do not send at least one person to sleep by sermonising on my finer qualities.” They both chuckled, and she continued. “Does what I propose sound reasonable? I really would like to be married as soon as it can be arranged, but when I think of the situation rationally, waiting makes more sense.”

“With some regret, I agree. It would give me great pleasure to take you to Pemberley this winter as my wife and to celebrate Christmas there as a family. But, yes, given the circumstances, it is better to wait.”

Having settled this point, they spoke of other matters and made arrangements to partake of several amusements while they remained in town before returning to the manor.