Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
SATURDAY 12 OCTOBER 1811
SOMEWHERE ALONG THE GREAT NORTH ROAD
I n the carriage heading north, Darcy and Elizabeth remained blissfully unconcerned with how most of those left behind were taking the news of their elopement.
Each night, they stayed at inns where Darcy registered them as brother and sister—not only to maintain propriety but also to offer Elizabeth an added layer of protection. While Darcy might have preferred to press on, once the immediate concern of being followed had passed, he chose to prioritise the drivers’ well-being and their overall safety by not travelling in darkness.
As the countryside blurred past, Darcy found himself once again captivated by the sound of Elizabeth’s voice, the lively intelligence in her eyes, and the way her laughter dispelled any lingering tension between them. Their conversations flowed effortlessly, as naturally as they had four years earlier, covering a wide range of topics and rekindling their shared understanding and easy companionship with each exchange.
Eventually, Darcy summoned the courage to confide in Elizabeth his lingering sense of failure over nearly losing Georgiana that summer. The memory of what might have happened had she eloped with Wickham continued to weigh on him, making him all the more cautious.
At one point, Darcy turned to her with a soft smile. “You are every bit as curious as you were at sixteen, are you not, my love? You were so full of questions about the estate and all its workings then and always wanting to know why we did things.”
Elizabeth returned his smile, her eyes sparkling with fond remembrance. “You were so serious in answering each one, my darling Fitzwilliam. I always wondered if you thought me too inquisitive. But apparently you found my impertinence charming.”
“On the contrary,” Darcy replied, his voice low. “I found your curiosity refreshing. It was rare to meet anyone, particularly a girl, who cared as deeply about such matters. It only made our friendship stronger.” His gaze lingered on her face, his tone taking on a quieter, more intimate note. “I cherished those days.”
Elizabeth's expression softened, her heart warming at his confession. She reached across the small space between them and gently took his hand, her fingers lightly brushing against his. “So did I, Fitzwilliam,” she whispered. “Those days were precious to me as well. They always have been.” Her face fell. “I cannot understand why we were kept apart. While I wish I could have confronted my father before we left, I did not want him to have the chance to separate us once again.”
The carriage hit a small bump in the road, jolting them closer together, neither showing any inclination to pull away, both long past concern over propriety. They sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments, each reflecting on the years they had been apart and pondering the motives behind their separation.
Finally, Darcy broke the quiet, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “One day, we will confront your father and anyone else who played a role in keeping us apart. It feels strange to think how much has happened since we were last together—and how much has not changed between us despite their efforts.” He lifted his hand to cup her cheek, his thumb gently tracing her skin as he looked deeply into her eyes. “I suppose some things,” he murmured, “were never meant to change.”
Just as he had years ago when she first accepted his proposal, he leant in and captured her lips in a passionate kiss, far different from the chaste ones they had shared since reuniting. This time, neither of them pulled away. The kiss deepened, overflowing with the love and longing that had grown over the years. When they finally parted, their foreheads rested together, both breathless yet content, the warmth of their connection speaking volumes without the need for words.
“Forgive me, Elizabeth,” Darcy murmured, his voice rough and uneven as he struggled to steady his breathing. Their foreheads pressed together, the moment charged with unspoken emotions. His arms, still encircling her waist, gradually slackened their hold as they both worked to calm their racing hearts.
“There is nothing to forgive, Fitzwilliam. We will be married soon, and truly, it was only a kiss,” she said, her impish smile lighting her face in the way he adored. She drew back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze, her hands resting against his chest as if reluctant to lose the closeness they shared.
“Still, we are not married yet, and I should not have allowed myself to get so carried away, Elizabeth. It is just… well, Elizabeth, you are so very tempting, and we are so soon to be wed. It is difficult to keep myself away from you, but I am determined that, despite our flaunting propriety by eloping, and even being in this carriage alone, I want to treat you as you deserve to be treated. Regardless of what it might cost me, I will not treat you as a lightskirt or anything other than the lady you are.”
“I thank you for that, Fitzwilliam, but you have not done anything that concerns me or that I have not willingly participated in. I love you, Fitzwilliam, and we will soon be wed,” Elizabeth reassured her intended. “How much longer do we have until we reach the border? Will we stop in Gretna Green or some other place?”
“We should arrive near Newcastle this evening, and then tomorrow we will finish our journey, arriving in Coldstream before nightfall. I intend to send one of my men ahead on horseback to make the arrangements for us to marry either on the evening of our arrival or first thing the following morning. I know that there is no need for a formal ceremony in a church, and it may not be in the Church of England, but I prefer to have our marriage solemnised by a minister if at all possible.”
He paused, noticing the look on her face. "Have I upset you, my love? Do you not agree?"
Before he could say more, she reached up to touch his face and placed a soft kiss on his lips.
“Thank you, Fitzwilliam, for being so considerate. I much prefer marrying in a church and had secretly dreaded the idea of marrying over the anvil. I would not have complained, as it would mean we were wed, but I am grateful you intend to go to the trouble of arranging a ceremony in a church,” Elizabeth said, her hands gently resting on his cheeks.
His cheeks flushed slightly. “It also makes the marriage more… official, I suppose. While I know we could obtain a certificate from a blacksmith should we wed over the anvil, any of our relatives who might attempt to protest our marriage would have a harder time doing so with a ceremony held in a church. We could go to Pemberley and have the banns read there, but that would take too much time, or we would have to lie to the rector, thereby voiding the marriage. Perhaps we ought to have waited, but, Elizabeth,” he said, the words bursting from him as though he could no longer hold them in, “I have already waited for you for so long.”
“Fitzwilliam, I know you are troubled about the scandal our elopement might create. You are worried how Georgiana will accept this news, along with the rest of your relations. But truly, Fitzwilliam, I fear that had you remained in Hertfordshire, my father would not have relented. Moreover, there was no guarantee that we would have been able to find each other again after I reached my majority,” Elizabeth echoed the reasons they had each expressed several times since making the decision to elope. “This was the only way we could ensure we would not be separated again. Given what Mr. Bennet has already done, I did not want to be subject to his authority for so many months. It is still above eight months before I will reach my majority, and certainly, you could not have remained at Netherfield all that time.”
Darcy sighed deeply, the weight of his emotions evident as he tightened his hold around her, drawing her close once more. He rested his cheek atop her head, feeling the soft brush of her hair against his skin. Her warmth and presence calmed the storm inside him, and for a moment, he simply held her, breathing in the familiar scent of lavender and something uniquely her own. The world seemed to slow as they sat together, the silence between them speaking more than any words could. With another gentle sigh, Darcy closed his eyes, savouring the quiet intimacy of the moment, as if this embrace could shield them from the burdens they both carried.
“Elizabeth,” he whispered, though he could not speak further for several more moments. “You are correct, my love, and we have spoken of it often enough. However, I cannot completely throw aside all the lessons I have been taught. I am concerned that my mother’s family might condemn me for my actions and attempt to take Georgiana from me.”
She reached up and caressed his face. “We will explain the matter to her, especially how our elopement is not the same as her attempt to do so. You know that I am not a fortune hunter, and elopement is a far greater risk for the female. Had she eloped with that man , she would not have been protected. Her fortune would have been at risk and nothing would have prevented him from doing whatever he liked with her once they were wed. She would have been completely under his control. The same is true for me, except I know you will do all you can to protect me.”
“Of that you can be certain,” he said, pulling back to look in her eyes. “I believe I mentioned that I have already sent a note to my solicitor, asking that he draft a marriage settlement for you. I will settle thirty thousand pounds on you and ensure you will be protected should something happen to me. The contract was written four years ago, even before I first came to Hertfordshire to see your father. I had it with me that day, ready for him to sign. However, I have made investments and purchased properties since then that needed to be accounted for in the settlement.”
“Thank you, Fitzwilliam,” she murmured into his chest. She snuggled against him once more. “We should be stopping to change horses soon, should we not?”
Darcy adjusted her slightly in his arms to pull his watch from his pocket. “I would imagine so. Are you in need of a rest?”
“Perhaps a short walk when we stop would be beneficial,” she replied. “But truly, I am anxious to arrive at our destination. I know that once we are married, we will travel several more days to Pemberley, but after that, I hope we will not have to travel for some time.”
He smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Yes, I look forward to remaining in one place for several days. It is fortunate that we will arrive in Coldstream on a Saturday and will be obligated to remain for the Sabbath. I will relish a day not spent in a carriage after so many in a row.”
She moved so she could look at his face. “You had travelled from Pemberley before arriving at Netherfield, had you not?”
With a grimace, he nodded. “I travelled from London the day of the assembly. Prior to that, I had travelled from Pemberley to Kent because my aunt summoned me, claiming there was an urgent matter at her estate that only I could help her with. Upon arrival, it became clear the issue was trivial, but my aunt simply preferred not to handle it herself. Once more, she attempted to press her belief that I have an 'obligation' to marry my cousin, despite both of us being firmly against it. We have expressed this many times, but she refuses to listen. Unsure of her true intentions, I left after only one night and returned to London. After spending three nights at Darcy House, I made the trip to visit my friend, and, well, you know how that ended.”
“Your coachman will be nearly as pleased to arrive at Pemberley as we shall,” Elizabeth laughed. “I have always said I wished to travel, but even I have found these last days taxing.”
“When we first left your home, I briefly considered travelling to a port and journeying to Scotland by sea. However, I was uncertain if our voyage could be managed so quickly or if we would have been trapped in a port town for days,” Darcy replied. “At least on a ship we could have walked on the deck instead of being trapped in a carriage although I have not minded the close quarters in the carriage too much.” He grinned at her as he said this, and Elizabeth could not help but laugh.
“Scandalous, my dear Fitzwilliam. Simply scandalous,” she replied, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “The company has been lovely, although I will relish being still and moving under my own power. I look forward to seeing Pemberley again and riding around the estate with you. It should come as no surprise to you that I have not ridden since I left Derbyshire all those years ago, and I have missed it.”