Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“ S leep well,” Charlotte whispered to her husband before shutting their chamber door and quietly descending the stairs.
Charlotte took a seat in her small drawing room and poured herself a steaming cup of tea from the pot the maid had left her. Perhaps it did not require the distinction of being named the drawing room, as it was the only room in their new cottage for a person to sit; however, Charlotte found it felt a good measure more like home than the parsonage ever had.
Nursing her convalescing husband had had its challenges, but she had lately discovered within herself a new conviction to live her life as she pleased. They had even less help than they had before, but Charlotte was not unfamiliar with a kitchen nor a stranger to hard work. In fact, she found the employment boosted her energy and made her feel more like herself than she had since the beginning of her short marriage.
She had spent so many months full of resentment and anger that she had come to barely recognise herself. She had been no more important in their lives than the furnishings Lady Catherine had selected for the parsonage—present but inconsequential, in attendance but not valuable.
Now settled in their new home, and with the quickening of the babe growing within her, she was feeling more comfortable with her future. It would not be what she had expected—it would be harder, but she rather preferred it to the numb existence she had been living before.
Even Mr Collins seemed further resolved to his new reality. In the first weeks, he was hard to manage and distraught, especially as he was unable to express himself. But he had calmed more in the last week and had begun to write notes to Charlotte, expressing his joy over the coming birth of their child and his plans for a new garden once he was able to move about more freely.
Charlotte did not see the babe as the olive branch that her husband perceived it as, but as a second chance—a chance to do better and love better. She was resolved to accept that her own decisions had led her to the present, and she was determined to ensure future choices were taken with more care.
She pulled a letter out of her apron that had arrived from Elizabeth earlier in the day and opened it once again. Though she had read it thrice, she longed to revisit one part in particular once more.
I find myself feeling rather pensive and optimistic as my wedding day approaches, and with that comes a deep longing to extend my forgiveness to you—my oldest friend. It is true that I may have harboured anger and resentment towards you for some time had not my own happiness come riding into Hertfordshire merely two weeks ago. But now that he is here and we are to be wed and gone from this place I have always called home, I find I want to start my new life on a foundation of compassion and hope—–and that includes extending as much towards you. I will only look upon our past together as it brings me pleasure—and there were many years where you brought me joy. Perhaps our friendship will never be what it once was, but I will say that I wish you nothing but the best.
God bless you,
Elizabeth Bennet
Charlotte held the letter to her breast and released tears of joy that Elizabeth would extend such grace to her—especially as her own vindictive efforts had been to ensure her friend’s happy marriage would never be. It was a kindness, indeed, as Charlotte doubted she would ever forgive herself for her treachery.
Charlotte tucked the letter into the drawer of a nearby table, banked the fire and blew out all but one of the remaining candles. Once upstairs, she looked in on her sleeping husband, thankful that he had found rest, and then crept into the room across the corridor. For now, it was a quiet place for Charlotte to sleep, but one day soon, it would be the nursery, and her entire life would be changed. Within those four walls, she could imagine herself redefined—Charlotte Collins: mother, helper, friend.
The sun rose as it always did, but Elizabeth was of a mind to acknowledge its arrival in a new and profound way. Mr Darcy had told her his love was as constant as the sun’s coming and going, and ever since he spoke those words, she was reminded of his faithfulness every day.
This day’s sunrise marked the day Elizabeth would vow before all to be his wife. She was acutely aware of how close they had come to never marrying at all. With shaking hands and trepidation, Elizabeth had penned her first letter to Charlotte the week before. Though Charlotte had requested forgiveness, it was for herself that she had granted it. She wanted to move forward with hope.
After a long examination of the prior months, it had become clear to her that Charlotte’s anger and deceit had little to do with her. Charlotte was upset with herself, not Elizabeth. But as Charlotte must continue on the path she had chosen, Elizabeth wanted not to be a hindrance to any possible happiness she might discover. And on this, the day of her wedding, she was pleased to find the burden of her own resentment departed.
Everything Elizabeth would take with her into her married life was packed into two trunks stacked in the corner of her bedchamber. A small case rested on top, open, awaiting any last items she would need to take. A strange thing, marriage—a lady was meant to leave all she knew behind her, even her name, in exchange for a new one. Elizabeth Darcy .
Much to the chagrin of Lady Catherine, married they would be. A laugh bubbled within her as Elizabeth remembered Mr Darcy writing to his aunt to announce their marriage but later deciding not to send the missive until the day prior to the wedding. It would be too late once she knew.
Colonel Fitzwilliam and Anne de Bourgh were informed almost immediately, but there was no concern that interference would come from those quarters .
A visit to Oakham Mount was not on the schedule the morning of the wedding, though it had been nearly every day since their engagement. But not this day—this last morning as a Bennet, Elizabeth wanted only to curl into the soft leather chair in her father’s book room and relish the last moments of quiet together before the entire household awoke.
“I shall go distracted!” Elizabeth heard her mother yell from down the corridor, and set her book aside, sharing a knowing glance with her father.
“And so, they have awoken,” he said with a chuckle. “Take the book with you, Lizzy. You have not finished it.”
Elizabeth laughed. “You certainly know I have read this book before.”
“Nevertheless,” he responded and waved her comment away, “let your old papa send you off with something.”
It warmed Elizabeth’s heart to see him so affected by her leaving. Their relationship had been slowly improving over the last month, but he had been extremely attentive since the announcement of her betrothal. They had been both keenly aware that their days together had been numbered.
“Lizzy!” Her mother sprung into the room. “I have been looking for you! Hurry now, we must have you ready in time.”
With one last wistful look at her father and the room they often shared, she turned to leave. Her father rose from his chair, picked up the book she had been reading, and pressed it into her hands. She held the old tome tight to her breast and thanked him—for the book, and hopefully he knew, also for his love and affection over the years.
“Your Mr Darcy is likely to have three copies of his own, but I shall find comfort knowing you shall finish the tale.” He hugged her tightly and scooted her out of the room .
The pitter patter of slippered feet and giggles made her stop at the foot of the stairs to breathe it all in—home, her last morning at Longbourn. Even her mother’s strident tones above stairs made her feel a longing to bottle up the moment and keep it with her always.
But it was Jane’s gentle greeting when she arrived in their bedchamber that nearly did her in.
“Do not cry!” Jane cooed. “You do not want red eyes today. Come and sit. I will start on your hair.”
Jane guided her into a chair, and Elizabeth pressed her sister’s hand on her shoulder, “Nothing too extravagant.”
Jane nodded, “As you say, Elizabeth Bennet.”
“With this ring, I thee wed. With my body, I thee worship. And with all my worldly goods, I thee endow. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
It was done. A thrill of emotion ran through Darcy as he surveyed his wife’s joy when they exited the church together. His wife!
The wedding breakfast that followed was sumptuous and attended by countless neighbours and some family. Mrs Bennet was very vocal in her pleasure over her own efforts. Darcy was forced to summon all his patience for their conversations, although she was easier to endure than the flood of well-wishing strangers.
Darcy had been surprised to see his cousin Anne among the guests in the church, and took his first opportunity to lead Elizabeth in her direction once all their appropriate greetings had been executed. Anne was seated with Fitzwilliam in the Bennets’ drawing room, and his cousins both rose when the couple approached .
“It is lovely to see you, Miss de Bourgh,” Elizabeth said to Anne, reaching out a hand in greeting. “We had not heard you would be attending the wedding. What a delightful surprise.”
Fitzwilliam responded, “I had to stand up with Darcy and could not very well leave Anne behind to face her mother alone when the news arrived. It was work enough that we have been forced to feign misplacing your correspondence for weeks now to avoid her interest in what news you had to share.” To this he added a wink for Anne.
Anne added, “One morning my mother nearly caught me dropping your letter into the fire, and I had to pretend a chill to explain my position in the room. She had me sent to bed for two full days!”
“And where does your mother think you are now?” Darcy asked.
Fitzwilliam responded again, “I had to tell Lady Catherine that we had been summoned to Darcy House. She was delighted. Mrs Jenkinson accompanied us and was not happy when our travels were met with an empty Darcy House and plans to continue on to Hertfordshire this morning.”
Anne grinned at Darcy. “I had to come. Not only to support you both but to ensure I was miles away when my mother learned of your marriage.”
The foursome could not contain their laughter. Though it was not long before Darcy leaned over to whisper to his lovely bride that he would be ever so happy to have the carriage readied for their own departure. Immediately, if it would please her.
Elizabeth squeezed his elbow and laughed, leaning in to provide her response quietly, “I will go and change into my travelling dress, and bid my family farewell.”
Before departing, Elizabeth found a quick moment to pull Anne aside and enquire about Mrs Collins.
“She is well,” Anne responded kindly. “Her cottage is so quiet you would not even know her husband is at home.”
“You have called on her?”
“Fitzwilliam has been encouraging me out of the house. He suggests I should use my phaeton to visit tenants rather than only for pleasure rides. Mrs Jenkinson and I have been preparing baskets and delivering them. They have been met with great pleasure. I think one day I shall enjoy being mistress of Rosings.”
“You are already mistress of Rosings,” the colonel said, appearing at her side to interrupt her speech. “Only your mother would not like you to consider it.”
Elizabeth smiled at the pair of them and excused herself to ready for their departure. After changing into travelling clothes, Elizabeth stepped out of her chamber and gave one final nostalgic glance down the long corridor. Lydia appeared at that moment, wrapping an arm around Elizabeth’s waist and sighing.
“I shall miss you,” Lydia said quietly.
Elizabeth leaned back to look her sister in the eye. “You know, I should thank you for jumping out of that window in Kent. In a roundabout way, I would not be married today if you had not.”
Lydia laughed outright. “Perchance you should thank Mr Collins, because in a very direct way, he was the reason I left. And do not dissemble, Lizzy. I will have you know that I never jumped! I climbed out. ”
Elizabeth squeezed her youngest sister, told her to write, and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
After the breakfast, the newly wedded couple travelled to London and arrived by late afternoon. They spent their time upon arrival reading and resting in the library. A more thorough tour of the house was planned for the next morning.
Elizabeth was overwhelmed with the collection of books, eventually selecting a short stack of tomes which she directed be sent up to her private sitting room. That the indulgence of the collection would always be at her disposal was overwhelming.
Even with all her choices that evening, she decided to continue reading the book her father had told her to bring to London, but could not focus on the words. Simply having the opportunity to sit near her new husband with no one else about was a distraction, and she eventually excused herself to dress for dinner.
Mr Darcy led her up a grand staircase to her chambers. She was reluctant to release his hand when he said goodbye at her door, holding tightly as he attempted to move down the corridor to his own room. She smiled teasingly and pulled him back to her.
He seemed pleasantly surprised at her playfulness, pressing her back against the wall and asking quietly, “Can I help you with something, Mrs Darcy?” He arched his eyebrow in a suggestive way that rendered her unable to contain her laughter.
She placed her hand on his cheek, running it slowly back through his hair and twisting her fingers into his curls. “It is not help I require. ”
His eyes darkened, and he placed a finger over her mouth to illustrate his desire for her to ‘shh’. Pressing his body against hers, he kissed his wife in a manner that made all of her teasing melt away, and she was left with only yearning. Heat poured through her body, and her knees became weak. When he released her, satiated and smug, he backed away slowly and whispered, “I shall see you at dinner.”
Left in the corridor, out of breath and flushed with anticipation, Elizabeth leaned her head back against the wall and counted her many blessings—her husband’s spontaneity being one of them.
She entered her room and rang for Jones, her newly appointed lady’s maid, who ordered her into a hot bath that smelled of citrus. After helping her dress and towelling her hair dry, Jones laid a gown on her bed for dinner before being dismissed. Yes, she would enjoy the luxuries of being Mrs Darcy.
Dressed in only a shift and a new, silk dressing gown, Elizabeth curled up in an armchair near the fire with her hair fanned out on the back of the chair to help it finish drying more quickly. Observing the spacious and tastefully decorated room, she could not but feel grateful for the path her life had taken; nevertheless, she remained a little uneasy surrounded by such elegant, expensive things, which now belonged to her. This part of accepting Mr Darcy’s hand was still a bit shocking.
While musing on the lovely, comfortable room, she heard a soft knock. Elizabeth turned to face each of the four doors in rapid succession. The knock had not come from the door to the corridor, nor the door that led to her private sitting room. Perhaps her dressing room? But no. This knock came from the door that adjoined her husband’s chambers. Her eyes went wide with anticipation .
“Come,” she called quietly while pulling her dressing gown more tightly over her shoulders.
An immensely pleased looking Darcy entered her room.
“I think you mean to intimidate me, entering my rooms before I have dressed for dinner!” She wrapped her arms around her waist as she stood.
He looked at her with hunger in his eyes. His intent was clear, and her heart began beating quickly. Thankfully, she was reminded of her aunt Gardiner’s kind and thoughtful explanation for the night to come. Calm yourself .
He approached slowly. “There is no reason to dress. I have just asked Cook to send our meal up to my sitting room. I have no plans to depart these rooms for many hours, my love. I hope you will not be too disappointed.”
Elizabeth laughed uneasily at his boldness. “What will your servants think of me! Not attending my first meal at Darcy House?”
“I think we can consider it your second meal. You did take refreshments when we arrived, did you not?”
His impatience was enjoyable to see so displayed. She smiled and responded, “You missed me already?”
His eyes softened at the question, and he pulled her into a warm embrace. Cupping her face in his hand, he said with loving sincerity, “Elizabeth, my dearest, I believe I missed you long before I met you.”
Elizabeth already knew she loved her husband. He was a complicated man, but she enjoyed studying new aspects of his personality—especially the surprisingly eager gentleman that stood before her. She looked forward to learning all she could about this wonderful man over the years.
She still felt some little shame knowing she had questioned his character so frequently in their earliest acquaintance and even later in Kent. She had been surrounded by others who, in their cruelty and deception, made her second guess his nature. Their duplicitous behaviour had made her uncertain what was up and what was down. And she had learned that duplicity can come in many shapes and forms—a broken friend, a controlling aunt, or a cruel parson. Their changing ways and deceit were the very opposite of Mr Darcy, who was simply hard to know—a private man who preferred to show his truest self only to those he trusted and loved.
Studying Mr Darcy was to be the joy of her life—the charitable landowner of Pemberley, the generous brother, the giving husband and, hopefully, the playful father; and perhaps, if she was exceedingly blessed, even the doting grandfather.
Elizabeth wrapped her arms tightly around his waist as a flood of sudden self-awareness rushed through her. She searched her husband’s eyes for the answers to her uncertainties. When she found only acceptance and approval and devotion in their depths, she relaxed into his comforting embrace. She was home.