Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
“Richard!” Emily tapped at the door and, at Richard’s invitation, entered. “Oh, you are standing! Is that wise?” A crease appeared between her two lovely eyes. He would never tire of gazing at those beautiful hazel orbs.
“The doctor has pronounced the wound well-knit, and me well enough to engage in gentle activities. See, I am properly dressed like a gentleman and all!”
It was true. Earlier that morning, Dr. Jacobi had arrived to check on his patient. There was no lingering hint of fever, and the scab around the lesion was starting to loosen, suggesting new skin beneath.
“I see no reason why you should not be up,” he replied to Richard’s request. “Just be certain not to put undue stress on the wound. You will feel when it is too much, and you must ease back from what you are doing.”
“Then,” the patient had exclaimed, “I shall call Thomas to help me dress, and I shall join the ranks of the living once more! Perhaps I shall even take a stroll in the square down the street.”
“Very good,” Dr Jacobi had replied. “It is a fine day to be outside. The fresh air is healing. Only be certain to take all due care.”
Now Richard extended that information to Emily, who confessed herself more than happy to accompany her friend on a short and gentle outing.
They walked slowly down the street, arm in arm.
Her hand felt good wrapped around his forearm as it was, and he recalled that day in the less-frequented park when he had dispensed with his coat and felt that hand on his bare skin.
It was too cool now to even contemplate removing his coat, regardless of propriety, but the memory filled his body with a flush of warmth.
The day was chilly but clear, as befit the middle of autumn.
Many of the prominent families of the ton were still at their estates, not being expected back in London until the season began in a few weeks.
The park in the square was far from empty, but there were several unoccupied benches, and the paths were clear to stroll without the need to step aside every few paces.
“Shall we?” Richard gestured to one of the pathways that led diagonally across the green space.
The flowers that lined the path had long since died, but the trees had not yet turned brown and shed their leaves.
A light breeze lifted hems and toyed with hats and bonnets, but the sky glowed clear and blue, with the occasional white cloud to break the expanse of azure.
They ambled slowly so as not to put too much stress on Richard’s healing wound, and other strollers who came by easily overtook them.
Richard saw nobody he recognised, which pleased him.
He had no use for idle chatter with his mother’s associates now.
“There is a bench yonder, by the row of shrubs. I have something particular I wish to ask you and would prefer not to be interrupted.”
Emily cast her hazel eyes on him, curiosity etched in her regard. Could she think she knew his purpose? “That seems like a fair place to sit a while. Are you not too fatigued?”
“No. For this, I have all the vigour in the world.”
That same odd expression passed over her face, but she said nothing and let him lead her across the square to where the bench stood, separated from the others and from the path by a fair patch of still-green grass.
“I have been thinking,” Richard began. “That is, I have been wondering… About your parents. And about you, now that your father is no longer able to discharge his duties. I may have a solution.” He paused, holding his breath.
The world seemed to fall silent, even the birds holding their cries as they wheeled around so far above them in the sky.
Emily said nothing but stared at him with wide eyes. Drawing courage from her steady presence beside him, Richard pressed on.
“I have a house in the north. It is in a large village at the edge of my parents’ estate, and quite near to Pemberley, where Darcy lives.
It was my grandmother’s property and is not part of the estate.
My father has given it to me outright. It has no attached land or income, and a house alone will not do for a man…
or a family.” He watched her face, but her expression gave away nothing of her thoughts.
“There must be money for food and servants, and repairs and firewood, and so much more.”
“Are you offering the house to my parents?” She seemed disappointed. “Will Father’s half-pay support the establishment?”
“I do not believe so, but if you…” She looked hurt, and he left off.
“Does this solution only concern my parents? Are they the main object of your thoughts? It is a very generous offer, but —”
He blinked. “No, not at all. As much as I like and respect them, I must confess I thought only of you. Please, let me finish before you answer. I find I have not the courage that I ought to have, but I have too much in my heart to remain silent.”
Slowly, deliberately, she extended her hand towards his. He had plenty of time to draw back or to shift on the bench to render her actions moot, but instead he reached out so their fingers met. She held his hand in hers, and the slight pressure gave strength to his conviction.
“Let me explain. The house is not large, but it is large enough for your parents… and us. The income from your portion and my own small wealth will be more than sufficient for us all to live, if not like kings, then in comfort. If you will have me, that is. If you will marry me.”
There! He had said it! But her face did not break into that wide smile he had hoped for. Instead, her jaw dropped slightly, and the space between her eyebrows furrowed.
How foolish he was. He had made his offer sound like a business proposition. He must speak on. The words now rushed out of him.
“I have always felt the greatest admiration and devotion to you as a friend,” he started as she looked away, “but of late I have realised that friendship is not all I feel. Please do not be alarmed, but I must tell you that I love you. I believe I have always loved you, even when I would not admit it to myself. Please, do not spurn me before I have finished!” Her face was still turned away from him.
“I know you have very little cause to trust men and their passions. I know you have suffered at the hands of men, of those who professed to love you, and of those who held only ill intentions towards you. I can promise you that I shall never hurt you. I can promise never to press my suit unless it is wanted. If we marry, your parents will have a fine place to live, and we may be together as much as we wish. I will leave the exact nature of our arrangement up to you. If you choose to be my wife in name only, so we may live in the same house, I will be satisfied.” His eyes were damp and his voice thick.
“No.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“No?” His heart began to shatter.
“No, not a marriage in name only. If I accept you, it will be with my full heart.” Now she turned back to look at him.
Her eyes were brimming with tears, but her face was radiant with that smile he had so desired to see.
“I have come to love you as well. I thought I did, for quite some time now, but I was afraid. I could not admit it to myself until that moment I saw you lying injured by Weekes’ sword.
At that moment, I knew with all my heart that I could never live without you. I knew then how much I loved you.”
He raised his hands to cup her face. “Then you will accept me? You will be my wife?” He could hardly believe it.
She nodded, her actions speaking loudly where mere words failed her.
And then, oblivious to everybody else in the square, and quite heedless of who might see them and be shocked by their behaviour, their lips met in a deep and heartfelt kiss.
Richard accompanied Emily back to her home in a hack—at her insistence—and the two stood hand in hand as they related their news to Mrs Barrow.
The lady was overjoyed and enfolded Richard in a great—and careful—embrace as she might with her own son.
Together, they decided that since the six weeks of complete rest for the colonel were over, it would be safe to relate this to him as well, which they did to the greatest of delight on the part of the hearer.
“I am so happy for both of you!” The older man pulled himself up to a standing position from his chair.
He held out a hand, which Richard shook most vigorously before recalling his friend’s health, not to mention his own recent injury.
For this, he would gladly suffer the twinges and aches. This was pure joy.
The Barrows were likewise delighted and touched by Richard’s offer of his house in the north. How much more so were they when they learned that they would not be alone, but that Emily and Richard would take up residence as well when they were in the area, so the older couple would not be alone.
Mrs Barrow’s eyes were filled with tears of joy and gratitude.
“I consider myself to be the fortunate one,” Richard responded to her thanks.
“I have the most excellent bride in all of England, and I am fortunate enough to open my house to people whom I consider the best of friends, and who are now family. What more could a man want?” He turned to Emily who beamed at him, and he grinned back.
It would be more difficult to relate the news to his own parents. His mother would be pleased to hear he was getting married at last, to be sure, but this wife would hardly be her choice.
Emily was no heiress and possessed no fortune.
Furthermore, she pronounced herself very pleased to be a colonel’s wife, rather than the wife of an idle gentleman.
Writing to his mother at Matlock and informing her that he wished to remain a soldier took nearly more courage than asking Emily for her hand.
But this was not a task to be delayed, especially since the couple wished to marry as soon as was reasonable.
And so, with judicious input from the bride, Richard penned his letter and committed it to the mail the very next morning.
Four days later, a reply arrived on his breakfast tray at Darcy House.
Richard darling,
How is it that I am hearing news of your impending nuptials when I did not even know you were courting a lady?
After all those long months of protestations that you would never enter into matrimony, your letter quite astounded me.
Surely your mother ought to have been given some notion of what was to come.
Your father is likewise quite perturbed, although equally pleased.
I ought, I suppose, to be distressed that you did not consider Miss Eastway, for I had quite settled on her.
She has everything by way of wealth and breeding.
But I suppose this is your bride, and it is more important that you should approve of her than that I should.
If you are so fond of her that you are willing to rescind your determination not to marry, then I am certain I shall like her very well.
Has she no fortune at all? Ah, well. We shall endeavour to ensure that you will not starve.
Now, dearest, what is this news of your decision to remain in the army? You do know how to vex your loving mother. We shall talk of that at some later point.
Your father and I greatly anticipate meeting our new daughter. We shall be in London three days before your wedding, and I have already written to Beeton at our London house to prepare for the wedding breakfast, which we shall host. Is it very far from the church?
Your loving mother
Richard could do nothing but laugh.
Four weeks later, Darcy married his Elizabeth in a simple ceremony in Meryton’s village church.
Richard and Emily were present to celebrate with the bride and groom, and with Elizabeth’s sister and Bingley, who were wed on the same day.
Emily declared Elizabeth Darcy to be exactly the sort of person she would esteem as a friend, and Richard decided to do everything he could to encourage that friendship.
Exactly one week later, in the parish church in London by the Barrows’ apartments, Richard entered into that same state of matrimony with his darling Emily.
Always one to tend towards the sensible, she had chosen a light blue shade for her gown, a colour that would wear well over the next months and years, and that better suited her age than the pale whites and creams preferred by the younger brides.
That the colour perfectly set off her colouring was noticed by the attending family and friends, but not by Richard, who would have considered her beyond beautiful had she been clothed in sackcloth.
In lieu of a hat or bonnet, her hair was arranged upon her head by Elizabeth Darcy’s own maid, and was decorated with silk roses that matched the silver trim of her gown. She looked lovely.
Richard could hardly recall what he wore. He assumed his raiment included black breeches and coat and an elegant, embroidered waistcoat, which he recalled Darcy placing into his hands the day before, but his garb was inconsequential to him.
He was marrying Emily! At last, after so long, and after so much self-deception, he was finally marrying the woman best suited to his character and his heart.
He breathed a prayer of thanks that Honoria Ingalls had rejected him so soundly, for he knew he would never have been happy with her.
But with Emily, a lifetime of joy awaited him.
As he listened to the parson drawl the familiar words of the marriage rite, he turned to look at his bride.
His heart filled with a delicious warmth, and he felt so happy he almost started to laugh.
Beside him, Emily kept her face forward, but her eyes flicked sideways to meet his, and she bit back a grin.
She was worth more than rubies.
She was perfect.
He was the luckiest man in the world.
~ THE END ~