Chapter 18
IN FAVOUR OF MATRIMONY
One month later, and with a delightfully short season of courtship behind her, Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy paused a moment to reflect upon all her good fortune and the joy she felt in being surrounded by family, friends, and acquaintances at the wedding breakfast. What a relief it had been to be married by special license.
Though her husband was often subjected to the absurdities of her mother, her sisters, and occasionally her own father, he bore it with admirable calm.
Upon hearing of the engagement from Elizabeth herself, Mrs. Bennet was a mixture of amazement and contentment.
It was just as Lady Catherine had foretold, and thus Mrs. Bennet could not be too surprised when her Lizzy confirmed the veracity of her ladyship’s claim, even if they was a bit premature.
Mrs. Bennet had already taught herself to think exceedingly fond of Mr. Darcy—having entertained him for dinner.
His acknowledgment that the partridges were remarkably well done was a cause for quite a bit of boasting to her neighbours, for, after all, he was a man of ten thousand pounds a year.
She was doubly pleased that her scheme for Kitty to turn the gentleman’s head did not unfold, for Lizzy’s nuptials had been the means of his friend Bingley finally returning to Hertfordshire—a very single Mr. Bingley.
Bingley, Elizabeth observed, was standing alone by the hearth nodding and smiling at many of the guests as they passed by.
He looked as though the most significant part of him were missing.
Elizabeth could well imagine her beloved sister Jane by his side.
She sighed. Perhaps in another place and time.
Never did Elizabeth expect that the Bingley sisters would deign to attend the nuptials.
She supposed Miss Bingley must surely be deeply mortified by Mr. Darcy’s marriage—its being the means of forever thwarting her intention of being the next mistress of Pemberley.
Elizabeth surmised Caroline had dropped all her resentment and even attempted to pay off every arrear of civility as a means of retaining the right of visiting at Pemberley.
Elizabeth’s two closest friends from Bosley were present as well. Anyone who paid any attention at all to Lucy and Lord Holland would have mistaken them as a couple. How Elizabeth wished that might one day be the case. Even now, she had not abandoned her intention of seeing it so.
As pleased as she was to see Georgiana standing across the room speaking with Colonel Fitzwilliam, Elizabeth would have wished to see more of Mr. Darcy’s relations at the wedding.
She had met his aunt and uncle Lord and Lady Matlock as well as the viscount, Lord Robert Fitzwilliam, during her stay in Town.
The two people she was most curious about, Lady Catherine de Bourgh and her daughter, Anne, also did not come.
The former did, however, write her nephew a very long letter, but he did not share its contents with his bride.
He would only mention his aunt’s complaints that what had started as a trifling cold had manifested itself into a malady far more inconvenient.
A consequence of her extensive and by now well publicised travels, Elizabeth surmised.
She was gratified by the easy attachment forming between her sisters Mary and Kitty with Georgiana.
She could well imagine the three of them becoming fast friends.
As for her youngest sister, Mrs. Wickham, already, Elizabeth had received several letters detailing the hardships that she faced in Newcastle.
She further affirmed that now that her sister was so very rich, Elizabeth should consider extending them a helping hand with a mere three or four hundred pounds now and again—a small sum indeed for a sister whose husband had ten thousand pounds a year.
Elizabeth, having exacted the full account of her husband’s ardent dislike of George Wickham and why he insisted that the man never be allowed to visit Pemberley, appreciated even more the extent of his sacrifice in saving her sister from utter disgrace, and she honoured him even more.
Elizabeth was happy to see her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner in conversation with her husband and happier still that her dear aunt thought nearly as highly of him as Elizabeth did.
There is something of dignity in his countenance that gives one a favourable idea of his heart, was the sentiment avowed by Mrs. Gardiner when congratulating her niece on the nuptials.
It warmed Elizabeth’s heart to hear the aunt, who would always be her favourite, speak in such a manner about her husband.
She could hardly wait to receive the Gardiners at Pemberley.
Nothing warmed Elizabeth’s heart more than seeing her father and Lady Vanessa reunited after so many long years of estrangement.
Her ladyship, if she would admit it, truly enjoyed returning to her childhood home.
Upon designating Elizabeth her sole heir, Lady Vanessa’s standing increased one-hundred-fold amongst the Bennets of Longbourn.
Being a future heiress was well and good, Elizabeth considered, but that was far from what endeared her ladyship to her niece.
That commendation was earned with Lady Vanessa’s having invited Elizabeth to live with her in Bosley and thereby providing the means of uniting her with the best man in the world.
From the moment she had first laid eyes on her new home, Elizabeth was struck with the notion that being the mistress of Pemberley was truly something.
All that she saw and admired upon seeing Pemberley for the first time had formed a fond impression upon her memory, and she often reflected on the moment.
The park was very large and contained a great variety of ground.
They had driven for some time through a beautiful wood stretching over a wide extent and gradually ascended for half-a-mile.
They then found themselves at the top of a considerable eminence where the wood ceased and Pemberley House, situated on the opposite side of a valley, instantly caught the eye.
She gasped upon espying the large, handsome stone building which stood well on rising ground and was backed by a ridge of high woody hills.
A stream of some natural importance flowed in front.
Its banks were neither formal nor falsely adorned.
Elizabeth was delighted. She had never seen a place for which nature had done more or where natural beauty had been so little counteracted by an awkward taste.
Elizabeth had finished the last of her letters to her family, and thanks to Betsy, they were placed in the downstairs tray for posting.
She was now at leisure to commit her fondest thoughts on the happenings at Pemberley to her journal.
It had been some time since she learned to think of her frequent writings as such, as opposed to letters meant for her beloved Jane.
Elizabeth owed it to Betsy’s unrelenting persistence to know for whom the letters were meant as well as her subsequent understanding once she discovered their true purpose.
No one was more surprised than Betsy, herself, when Elizabeth prevailed upon Lady Vanessa to allow Betsy to come to Pemberley and be Elizabeth’s lady’s maid.
Elizabeth opened her drawer, took out her gold brooch, and unfastened it.
Just over two years ago when she was holding her beloved sister as she drew her last breath, Elizabeth never could have imagined such a life as this: a beautiful home and a loving husband.
She also had the means of raising her family’s lot in life as the future heiress of the Barrett fortune.
How glad she was that she finally took a chance and opened her heart to all that life afforded.
As I look at where I am and all that I have, I can have no cause to complain.
Deciding that her journal entry could wait, Elizabeth placed the brooch that she had worn nearly every day for the past two years back in the drawer.
She walked over to the window seat and drew in a deep breath as the sun’s warmth washed over her face.
Once settled comfortably in the window seat, Elizabeth reflected on how far she had come in so short a period of time.
I never dreamed it possible to feel such happiness and contentment ever again.
She reached into her pocket and retrieved her new locket.
Smiling, she considered what it meant to her.
Moments later, when she espied her husband entering the room, she clutched the locket in her hand and folded her arm behind her back.
He sat next to her and kissed her gently on her cheek. “You are being very mysterious, my love. What are you hiding?”
“You might say it is a present of sorts.”
“A present for me? You need not to have gone to the trouble.”
“Actually, it is a gift that I intended for myself, although I confess I would never have procured it were it not for you.”
“This is mysterious. May I ask what it is?”
“I shall show you.” She removed her hand from behind her back and opened it to reveal the locket.
Darcy touched his breast pocket and assured himself that nothing was amiss. “It is a perfect replica of my own.” He took Elizabeth’s locket in his hand, opened it, and proceeded to admire it. He ran his free hand through his hair. “When did you manage this?” Darcy asked as he examined the contents.
“You will recall succumbing to slumber in the carriage ride to London after our wedding breakfast.”
He ran his fingers through his hair again, this time more slowly as if checking to make certain it was all there. “Elizabeth, pray tell me you did not—”
Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled with mischief.
“Indeed, I secured a lock of your hair just as I always hoped I would one day after allowing you to have a piece of mine. Now, my love, we are even. We both shall carry a piece of each other closest to our hearts, from this day forward and for as long as we both shall live.”
Darcy could do no less than grace his wife with a beautiful smile.
“Two hearts entwined as one embarked upon a journey—” He claimed her in his arms, leaned in, and commenced kissing her, growing ever more urgent with each passing second and filling her completely with adoration until he took her breath away.
He cradled her chin, peered deeply into her eyes, and spoke softly, “A lasting love affair.”
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