Epilogue #2
“Lord and Lady Matlock, other than this one minor incident, I enjoyed my brief sojourn into your home. I am authorized by the Queen to invite you and the Darcys to tea three weeks hence. The Lord Chamberlain of the Household, the Marquess of Hertford, will issue an invitation with the date and time. Good evening.”
He then pivoted and strode down the hall, disappearing down the grand staircase, his retinue close behind. Darcy tried to catch his wife’s attention.
“Elizabeth,” he started to say.
She ignored his entreaty and looked everywhere but at him.
“Our guests are gathered in the other room and we should not keep them waiting,” she said, her head held high. “Lord Matlock, I believe my next set is with you.”
“It is, Elizabeth. Let me escort you back to the dance floor.”
He crooked his elbow and she placed her hand on his forearm and they both re-entered the ballroom. Darcy stood rooted to the floor, not moving even after the musicians began warming up before the next set commenced.
“Mr. Darcy.” He was startled and noticed Jane by his side. “I believe the next set is ours.”
“I…”
He knew not what to do.
“Give me your arm and escort me to the ballroom. Keep your head high and smile while we dance. Lizzy will forgive you if you are honest in your feelings for her. You have made many mistakes, but have come too far to quit now.”
He held out his arm and Jane graciously accepted it, smiling serenely at guests as they made their way to the second position in the line, next to Elizabeth and his uncle.
His wife ignored him, keeping her gaze locked on Lord Matlock.
However, the smile gracing her face did not even remotely reach her fine eyes.
He deeply regretted every foul thing that had crossed his lips concerning Elizabeth and her family.
Damn, Caroline Bingley and her vicious propensity for tearing down his wife every chance she got.
He had no choice; he had to cut the Bingleys from his life. This could not go on any further.
He and Miss Bennet danced in silence while his wife chatted gaily with his uncle. It wasn’t until the fourth turn and he caught sight of how glassy her eyes were that he realized she was doing everything in her power not to cry. He almost stuttered to a stop.
He had done this. Not Caroline Bingley, but him. He was the one who said those vile words and nothing could take them back.
In one of their turns where he held his wife’s hand while she moved in a circle beneath his outstretched arm, he said, “Forgive me, Elizabeth. I have no words.” When next they met, he whispered, “Please meet me in the library when our set comes up.”
He was slated to partner with her for the supper set but knew it would be cruel to ask her to dance with him after what happened.
She did not reply but nodded her head in affirmation.
Thankful she agreed to meet and speak with him, he did not opportune her further and let her enjoy his uncle’s company.
When the dance was finished, he escorted Jane back to Richard’s side and made to remove himself from the room, stopping only when Aunt Lucinda blocked his exit.
“Where do you think you are going, Nephew?”
“I cannot stay here and embarrass her further, Aunt.”
“If you leave, the gossips will have a field day. Smile at your wife. Show everyone the love you have spoken of so freely. Give them nothing further to feast on.”
He saw the wisdom and nodded. For Elizabeth, he could do this.
The next three sets were interminable and when the supper set was announced, he quietly left the ballroom and made his way to the library.
He had asked a footman to ensure the fire was lit so the room would be warm and waited by the fireplace for his wife to join him.
Only a few minutes passed before the door slowly opened and like an achingly beautiful classic portrait, she stood silhouetted in the door frame.
She hesitated briefly before coming into the room fully, advancing until she stood a few feet in front of him, her expression resolute and distant.
“I am truly sorry for what was said, Elizabeth.”
“You have made a habit of spewing hateful words about myself and my family. Your comment that I am barely tolerable and not handsome enough to tempt you to dance was heard by most of my neighbors and friends and we now know of your unflattering remark over my lack of beauty in comparison to my aunt’s lack of wit.
” She paused as though in deep thought. “I wonder how many of my servants were in the room at the time and heard what you think of their rightful employer and owner of Netherfield Park?”
She waved her hand as though brushing that thought aside.
“No matter, but I know for a fact there were two footmen in the drawing room that night Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst discussed my aunt’s relations.
They most assuredly would have heard your view that given our atrocious relatives and low connections, the chance of any Bennet lady marrying men of any consideration in the world was materially lessened.
Do you think they wonder, while they go about their duties, how much you hate being tethered to such a hideous wife with an idiot of an aunt whom you find vulgar and have relatives who are in trade? ”
Darcy flinched as every insult he’d uttered during those six short weeks in Hertfordshire was thrown back at him.
If anyone was vulgar and crass, it was him.
He did not deserve Elizabeth as his wife.
She had never given him cause to be embarrassed.
She always behaved with the utmost dignity, even when she skillfully skewered Miss Bingley on her behavior.
“I cannot deny I said those words and looking back, I am ashamed and appalled at my behavior.”
“Ashamed because you said them or because you were found out?”
“Both. Regardless, I should never have said them at all and you must realize – you must know – I most assuredly do not hold those views any longer.” Darcy scrubbed a hand across his face and stared at his feet, searching for words to allay her concerns and fear for their future felicity.
“I have been a selfish being all my life. As a child, I was taught what was right but was not taught to correct my temper. I was spoilt by my parents, who encouraged me to care for none beyond my family circle; to think meanly of all the rest of the world; and at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own. Such I was, from eight to eight and twenty; and such I might still have been but for you! By you, I am properly humbled. I stand before you, chastened beyond reason, hoping beyond hope you will forgive me my multiple trespasses.”
He gave a start when a small hand touched his arm and then slid down to hold his hand.
“Fitzwilliam,” she said softly and he met her gaze.
“I will not lie and say your words did not hurt me. They most certainly did and to have them so publicly aired is almost beyond my comprehension. Having said that, you have since shown me a different facet of your character and I know you are a man who abhors deceit. If you say you are remorseful for your thoughts and previously held opinions, then I believe you. This is something we must work on together.”
He brought her hand up and crushed it to his chest over his heart.
“Although my actions belied my words, I now know the first time I beheld you my heart was lost forever, and fool that I was, I fought to push those feelings away. I love you, Elizabeth Darcy. You have bewitched me body and soul. Never will you hear me say a word against you or your family. You love them and because of that, I will always treasure them in my heart, for through their love and care, your character was formed. And I love your character almost as much as I love your form, your vivaciousness, your laugh, and your fine eyes.”
“Goodness, Mr. Darcy,” she teased with a slight smile. “When you put your mind to it, you can be quite charming. Are you sure you would rather not have a reset of our beginning and find a wife who would not give you so much heartache and turmoil?”
“No!”
“No?”
“If none of this happened, I would still be miserable and in want of a wife.”
“You cannot be sure of that.”
“All my adult life I have searched for a woman like you and if I had not accepted the invitation from Bingley to come to Hertfordshire, I most assuredly would still be a single man, haunting one crowded ballroom after another, seeking the other half of my heart.”
He raised her hand to his lips and reverently kissed her knuckles. Her eyes widened and her pupils dilated in a manner he knew well. Although she was unaware or most likely unwilling to admit it, she still desired him. Not willing to press her further for the moment, he released her hand.
“Shall we join the others for supper, or would you rather remain here and converse some more about my horrible habit of inserting my very large feet into my even bigger mouth.”
His heart leaped when she laughed out loud.
“I am ravenous. I did not eat much before attending the ball, my nerves were too much in evidence at the time. I need sustenance to bear the rest of the night with equanimity.”
“May I still have the honor of the final set?”
“Yes, you may.”
Relief washed over him, abating a portion of the terror he’d experienced when he thought he might have lost her completely.
Feeling somewhat giddy and lightheaded, he escorted his wife to the room where supper was laid out, joining his aunt and uncle, along with the Gardiners, the Bennets, Richard, and Jane.
Guests quickly set aside the vile accusations bandied about by Miss Bingley, marking them down to bad behavior from a woman who had set her sights too high for her own good.
The next day, under the careful direction of Lady Matlock and a select group of intimate friends, tongues wagged in various parlors and drawing rooms not about what Miss Bingley had said, but about the fact that she had committed the ultimate social gaffe.
She had insulted the King’s son, Prince Augustus.
By consensus, she was deemed as persona non grata, and all doors to elevated society, and a few rings below were firmly closed to her company.
…continue reading for how all this ends for our heroine and hero.