Chapter 35
Elizabeth and Darcy married in early January alongside her sister and his friend.
Another notable event held at about the same time was the double wedding of Rebecca Darcy and Lord Bramwell and Marian Strachan and Colonel Fitzwilliam.
Elizabeth would have liked to have been in London to celebrate with her friends, who had become her family upon her own marriage to her beloved Darcy, but they had immediately travelled to Derbyshire to pass the winter at Pemberley, hoping to avoid poor weather during the journey, which they had been warned was anticipated.
The estate was more magnificent than she had imagined, and after less than a week, she not only knew it was her home, she felt it was her home in her heart.
No doubt, that had something to do with her husband, who—like his estate—was more wonderful than she had believed any man could be.
To be sure, he was not perfect; who was?
But he was perfect for her, and the more she knew him, the more certain she was that they had been formed for each other.
He took prodigious care of her, always seeking to ensure she was happy and comfortable.
One early mark of this was his suggestion that they take a wedding trip to Ireland.
He had proposed it in early December, when they were speaking quietly in the parlour at Longbourn, Jane and Bingley in the opposite corner having their own private conversation.
“I recall you saying you would not be satisfied until you had seen more of the country, the west and perhaps the north,” he had said. “We might leave in the spring and spend several months doing just that. I thought Georgiana might accompany us.”
“Really?” she had cried, speaking loudly enough that their companions briefly glanced her way.
“I would greatly enjoy such a voyage. The western country is reported to be extraordinarily beautiful. But are you content to be away from England for such a period just a year after your previous long absence?” Once assured that he had no objections, she had thanked him, adding, “Of course your sister must join us. She will find it delightful, and who is to say she would ever have another chance to go?”
In the ensuing weeks, they had often spoken of what they would do and where they would go.
Darcy was chiefly responsible for making the arrangements, and eventually they settled upon an early spring departure and where they could reasonably visit.
After a short time in Dublin, they would go to Galway.
At about one hundred and thirty miles, it was not an excessively long journey, and they would stop along the way to see more of the country.
He had secured the services of what he was assured was an excellent driver and carriage, which would make the trip as comfortable as possible.
They would return to Dublin and enjoy the city, after which they would visit Belfast before sailing home to England.
“Georgiana will meet many new people, which I know she will find uncomfortable,” Elizabeth had said to Darcy one afternoon when they were discussing the voyage.
She had just finished telling him about a letter she had received from his sister in which she expressed both her enthusiasm and anxiety for the scheme.
“But it will help her learn to approach such encounters with both politeness and reserve until she knows whether she can trust them.”
“Unlike how she treated you,” Darcy had said. “It appears that both she and I have had to learn to be more generous when making new acquaintances.”
She had laughed. “At least when their name is Elizabeth Bennet!”
They had then spent a delightful few minutes with him assuring her of his affection, and her assuring him she viewed their past with amusement.
“I am far too happy with how everything has ended to care how it began. That might not be the best philosophy to follow in all circumstances, but in this one, it is. Let us think of the past only as it gives us pleasure! Imagine how lovely it will be to walk about Dublin again. I must go to see the hawthorn in Merrion Square and introduce it to Georgiana. It was my favourite tree in all of Ireland.”
“Perhaps you will discover a new favourite, since we shall be seeing more of the country.” He smiled and chuckled.
“Would you take it amiss if I said I found myself anticipating our trip more than I had expected? I initially thought of it to give you pleasure, but the more we speak of it, the more I long to explore the Emerald Isle. We might even extend our time there, I suppose, if we decide we would like to and there is no pressing reason to return to England.”
The weeks they spent in Galway would always be amongst the most memorable of Elizabeth’s life.
The small city was charming, but what she found astounding was the beauty of the countryside and coast. Her husband and sister-in-law were nearly as enthralled as she was.
By the time they had returned to Dublin, where they planned to stay for two months, Elizabeth began to have certain suspicions.
“But I shall keep them to myself until I am confident I am correct,” she whispered to herself one morning as she prepared for the day. “I know how pleased Darcy will be, and Georgiana will like to be an aunt. I do not want to disappoint them if I am mistaken.”
In Dublin, Darcy and Elizabeth took Georgiana to see all the sites they had been to the previous year.
Elizabeth had maintained a correspondence with several ladies she had met then, and visiting with them again was pleasurable.
The Darcys also found themselves invited to a number of parties.
At one of them, they met a young Irish man named Patrick Hamilton.
To Elizabeth’s amusement and Darcy’s unease, within a week, it was evident that Mr Hamilton was infatuated with Georgiana, and their sister was not opposed to his company.
“I do not like it,” Darcy told Elizabeth one evening when they were sharing a settee in their private rooms. “She is only sixteen!”
“And she will be seventeen this autumn,” Elizabeth reminded him.
“That is young, to be sure, but no one is thinking of them marrying. Mr Hamilton has not yet reached his majority, which alone means it is too soon. As long as they are properly chaperoned, as they have been and will continue to be, I see no harm in it.”
“I suppose,” he grumbled. “They will be separated once we leave, which will be the end of it.”
Although the thought seemed to cheer him, she said, her tone teasing, “Have you forgot that he is removing to England shortly?” Mr Hamilton, who had relations in Cheshire, was to study at Cambridge.
Darcy closed his eyes, and his chin dropped to his chest. She should not laugh at how difficult he found the notion of his sister attracting an eligible young man, for Mr Hamilton was wealthy and well-connected, and she doubted her husband would have any objections if it were not for their ages.
She said, “I suggest we set aside consideration of him and Georgiana. Their future will not be decided for some time. If they meet again later in the year, they may not even like each other!” For some reason she could not explain, she did not believe this would be the case.
Rather, she believed that, in several years’ time, their family would witness another union that began in the Emerald Isle.
Her statement made him smile, and she rolled her eyes, saying, “You are being ridiculous, my darling, wonderful husband. But let us be done with discussing them. I would rather talk about us.” She put her arms about his neck.
“Oh?” His gaze met hers, and his brow was arched in silent question. With his hands on either side of her waist, he pulled her closer. “Was there anything in particular you wished to speak of?”
She giggled, shook her head, and leant forwards until their lips were just two or three inches apart. “Did I say I wished to talk? How silly of me!”
Before breakfast the following morning, at Elizabeth’s request, Darcy escorted her on a walk to Merrion Square. It was not the first time they had been there, but he had no objections to taking her there as often as she liked. Marriage suited Darcy very well.
Rather, Elizabeth suits me perfectly, he reflected, as he so often did.
Loving her, knowing she felt just as deeply for him, was the greatest gift he had ever been granted.
Throughout their engagement and the months since their wedding, their bond had grown, and he considered it the happiest period of his life.
Elizabeth and Georgiana’s closeness and how warmly his relations had embraced Elizabeth added to his satisfaction—apart from Lady Catherine, who remained furiously insulted he had not married Anne.
They stopped by the hawthorn she liked so well, and Elizabeth placed her hand against the broad trunk, her lips upturned; she sighed.
“I wish I understood what it was about this tree that attracts you,” he said.
She turned to him, leaning her back against the trunk.
Shrugging, she said, “I do not know exactly. I have told you I find the old Irish stories about hawthorns charming. Perhaps there are faeries nearby but hidden from us. I would not risk offending them by doing anything other than appreciating how magnificent their home is.” After glancing about, presumably to ensure they were alone, she took his hand.
“Do you recall that it was by this tree that I first heard you and Bramwell speaking?”
He grimaced. “Do not remind me. What a fool I was!”
She smiled and squeezed his hand. “And I was a fool for taking so long to see beyond your words that day. We might have left Ireland friends instead of at odds.”
When he opened his mouth to reply and assure her she had done nothing wrong, only he had, she placed a finger over his lips to prevent it.
“I am glad we have come back to Ireland,” she said. “And I am glad that when we leave, it will be together and as dear friends and lovers and spouses and…”
Her head tilted to one side, she watched him, her beautiful, bright eyes fixed on his. There was something she was hinting, but he did not know what it might be. Shaking his head, he asked, “And?”
Before she spoke, she took a deep breath. “I know we once discussed extending our time in this charming, fair land, but I do not think we should. I would prefer our first child be born at Pemberley, just as you were.”
Darcy gasped and stared at her for a long moment as her words made their way through his mind. “Do you mean—? You are—?”
She grinned and nodded. “I should say that I am as certain as I can be, given it is still early, but yes, we are going to have a baby. My maid and I believe it will be in five or six months.”
He stepped closer, kissed her hand, and whispered, “Oh, Elizabeth, my dearest, loveliest wife, I love you so very, very much. I cannot tell you how happy you make me, and this?” He shook his head and found he had to blink several times to prevent tears from filling his eyes the way they were hers.
With her free hand, she brushed away a tear that had fallen down her cheek.
“I know! I feel just the same, both about loving you more than I ever imagined it was possible to love another person, and I am so…words cannot describe how overjoyed I am at the prospect of us having a baby.” She chuckled.
“As soon as I suspected, I knew I wanted to tell you here, in this spot where our story began. I like to think the faeries will give their blessing to our son or daughter.”
He laughed, again shaking his head, this time at how fanciful she was being. “I do love you, Elizabeth Annabel Bennet Darcy.”
“And I love you, Fitzwilliam Hugh Philip Darcy. Now and forever.”