Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
FRIDAY 11 OCTOBER 1811
PEMBERLEY
A t Pemberley, Georgiana was shocked to receive an express from her brother. It was unusual for him to go to such an expense on her behalf, and she heard from the servants that Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds received a letter as well.
For a moment, she twisted her hands in nervous anticipation. Why would her brother have sent her an express? What news did he have to convey to both her and their head servants? Was something the matter? Was he injured?
As her mind conjured all manner of potential ills that had befallen him, the handkerchief that somehow appeared in her hands grew more and more twisted. Her companion, Mrs. Annesley, found her in quite a state.
“Miss Darcy, whatever is wrong?” she asked upon observing her troubled countenance.
Georgiana visibly started, having not heard her companion enter the room. “Oh, you startled me,” she cried, placing her hand on her chest as she attempted to calm her racing heart. “No, all is well, or at least I suppose it is. Truly, I do not know for I received an express from my brother and have been too worried about what it might say to read it.”
Mrs. Annesley smiled down at the girl. “It is equally possible the letter contains good news, Miss Darcy, and you will not know what to think unless you read it.”
Georgiana smiled self-consciously and shook her head. “You are correct. Will you… will you remain with me while I read it? If it is good news, I can share it with you.”
The companion smiled indulgently at her, sitting beside the girl to provide silent encouragement.
Drawing in a deep breath, Georgiana broke the seal and opened the letter.
Wednesday, 9 October 1811
Along the Great North Road
My dear Georgiana,
Four years ago, we both lost someone we cared about very much. I was disheartened when I travelled to Longbourn all those years ago and was informed that Elizabeth Bennet was engaged to another. You were likewise affected when she never wrote to either of us, and we were unable to account for it.
I met Miss Bennet, Elizabeth, again in Hertfordshire. By some twist of fate, there was an assembly in the village of Meryton the very night of my arrival. Nearly immediately, I learned that she was neither engaged nor married, despite what her father told me. We spoke and soon discovered that her father had lied to us both.
To prevent him from keeping us apart any longer, we decided to elope. Dear sister, I know that is not how things are supposed to occur, but it was unavoidable. We have already waited so long to marry—neither of us had forgotten the other—and we could not see our way forward by any other means. I do regret that you will not be able to be here with us.
Elizabeth and I will travel first to Scotland and then to Pemberley. Depending on how our news is received by our relations, we are likely to remain at Pemberley for some time. I hope you can be happy for us, my dear sister. Your heart was broken nearly as much as mine when we lost Elizabeth, so I hope you can forgive us for not waiting for you.
Your loving brother,
Fitzwilliam
Georgiana slowly let out the breath she had been holding when she finished the letter. “My brother is to be married,” she breathed.
Mrs. Annesley took in her charge’s face and was uncertain how to respond. Her concern only grew when Georgiana burst into tears. “Come now, my child, and do not worry. There will be time for you to get to know the lady before they are wed, will there not? Your brother would want you to be comfortable with his bride.”
Georgiana took a few moments to calm herself before speaking. “I met her years ago; she and I were friends first. She and Fitzwilliam became engaged, but it seems her father refused to let them marry, leaving him heartbroken, and I presume, she was as well. At the time, I found it hard not to blame her for his suffering, although Fitzwilliam assures me she was not at fault; her father lied to them both. Now, they have been reunited and refuse to let her father keep them apart any longer—so they have eloped to Scotland.” The last words were filled with exultation, leaving Mrs. Annesley clear about the girl's feelings.
“Scotland? Your brother has eloped?” Mrs. Annesley cried. For a moment, she was unable to speak, for she was aware of why Georgiana’s last companion had been let go.
“It is not like my attempted elopement. Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth have been kept apart for years. Her father forbade the match and lied to each of them, or at least that is what my brother said. I am sure there is more to it than that, and Fitzwilliam will explain it to me when he arrives. For now, he begs me to be happy for him and to forgive him for marrying without me there. I am so excited to finally have Elizabeth as my sister that I barely care how the matter came about,” Georgiana replied.
Mrs. Annesley was delighted that her charge not only understood her brother's actions but also felt happy about the situation. She resolved to encourage Miss Darcy to focus on the positive aspects of this development. “This could be a wonderful new chapter for them and for you,” she said gently. “They are taking a bold step towards their happiness, and it may strengthen their bond even more.”
Georgiana nodded, her earlier excitement returning. “I hope so. They deserve to be together after everything they have been through. I am so excited to have a sister.” Mrs. Annesley smiled at the girl, and they began to make preparations for the couple’s homecoming. Soon, they called for Mrs. Reynolds who had had the news directly from the master.
Mrs. Reynolds remembered Elizabeth Bennet fondly and felt a warm sense of satisfaction knowing her master had found happiness. She had gathered enough information to understand that external pressures had kept the couple apart, and their elopement was a courageous step.
Teaming up with Miss Darcy and Mrs. Annesley, Mrs. Reynolds worked diligently to prepare the mistress’s chambers for their new occupant. Although the new mistress might wish to update the rooms, for now, the housekeeper’s priority was to ensure they were spotless and welcoming.
While it was impossible to prevent all the servants from catching wind of the events, they made every effort to keep the news confined to the estate. Pemberley’s servants were well compensated for their loyalty, and any who dared to gossip faced serious consequences, including termination. The threat of losing their positions kept most chatter within the grounds, allowing the family some semblance of privacy. However, the news that the master was marrying was harder to keep secret, and before Richard arrived on Monday evening, most people on the grounds of Pemberley had heard of the master’s marriage.
WEDNESDAY 16 OCTOBER 1811
When the newly married Darcys arrived at Pemberley late Wednesday afternoon, they were greeted with much excitement from the servants. Surprised by the reception, they smiled broadly at all those who had gathered, including Georgiana and Fitzwilliam. After hugs were exchanged between the family members, Darcy led Elizabeth around, introducing the servants to her as they went.
“Forgive me if I cannot recall all your names immediately, but I will do my best to learn them as quickly as I can,” Elizabeth said. “I am so pleased to have returned to Pemberley, and I hope I can do justice to the role of its mistress.”
The servants who remembered the young lady from her previous visit cheered, while the newcomers looked to the others for guidance. Georgiana Darcy had been the mistress of the estate, but due to her youth, she had little involvement in its management. She had kept up with tenant visits, which relieved some of her brother’s responsibilities, but for the most part, Mr. Darcy had assumed the role of master, leaving much of the household affairs to Mrs. Reynolds.
That lady was delighted to have a mistress again especially one who made the master so happy. She only had to see his smile when he descended from the carriage, his wife on his arm, to know he had done well. The two would be happy together, and the new Mrs. Darcy was exactly what the master needed.
Once the servants were dismissed, Darcy led Elizabeth on a quick tour of the house. Georgiana and Richard accompanied them for the first part of the tour, but once they reached the family wing, the newlyweds claimed exhaustion and expressed their desire to retire for the night. As they made their farewells, Richard gave Darcy a knowing grin over Georgiana’s shoulder, causing Elizabeth to blush at the obvious insinuation in his expression.
Despite Richard's teasing, neither he nor Georgiana protested the couple’s departure. Though Georgiana had many questions—only a few of which her cousin had managed to answer— she was content with her brother’s promise to have a proper conversation in the morning.
Upon entering her new chambers, Elizabeth nearly gasped in surprise. “Fitzwilliam, is this truly my room? It is lovely. However…” she trailed off, uncertain how to continue.
“What is it, my love?” he asked.
“It is just… since we wed, we have shared a room. I… I enjoyed that closeness, and, well… I confess that I hoped it would continue,” she stammered.
Darcy smiled broadly at his new wife. “I enjoyed sleeping with you as well. This is your room, but you do not have to sleep in here if you do not wish it. If you like, we can share my room, or we can share yours. It is entirely up to you.”
“Might I see your room?” she asked, her face brightening at his words.
“Of course, Elizabeth. I envision these rooms as ours. While I understand there may be times when we desire privacy, I would prefer that, for the most part, we keep our rooms open to each other. My hope is that the door between our chambers remains open throughout our marriage,” Darcy replied as he led her towards the door in the centre of the wall on one side.
Elizabeth paused, releasing a slow breath as she gathered her thoughts. “Fitzwilliam,” she began carefully, “I am not the same innocent girl I was when we first met. I have grown more aware of the world and its complexities.” She hesitated, her eyes searching his for reassurance. “I have overheard things—things some of the ladies in Meryton have said—about men of the first circles, or married men in general. They mentioned, almost casually, that many are not entirely faithful to their wives, particularly in arranged marriages.”
Her voice faltered slightly, but she pressed on. “I know this is something we should have discussed before our wedding, but I must admit… I do not think I could ever tolerate such a thing. Please, reassure me that this will not be our fate.”
Clasping her hand in his, he brought it to her lips for a kiss, holding on to it tightly as he spoke earnestly. “I love you, Elizabeth, and have been faithful to your memory for the last four years. I will never desire another woman—have never desired another woman. I will never stray from our marriage bed, of that, you can be certain.”
Elizabeth sagged into Fitzwilliam’s chest. Immediately, his arms came around her. “I am sorry this thought has troubled you, my dear,” he whispered, his breath in her ear tickling her and sending a shiver down her body.
“It was foolish of me to worry about it,” Elizabeth said, her voice softening, but the heat in her gaze undeniable. “I know how much you love me. But for now, my dear sir,” she paused, stepping closer, her breath warm against his cheek, “we have waited long enough. It is time for you to show me your room… and your bed.”
Her words were husky, laced with an unmistakable desire that sent a thrill through Darcy. His pulse quickened at the look in her eyes, the boldness of her tone. For the past few nights, at the various inns they had stayed in, he had respected her need for rest and privacy, content to merely sleep beside her. But now, with the spark of longing in her voice, he could no longer deny that the time for patience had come to an end.
Elizabeth felt a surge of confidence as she watched his reaction—he had been so patient, so reserved, and she knew she had to be the one to break through that restraint. It was time for their marriage to truly begin.
With a teasing smile, she took a step back, her hand lightly trailing down his chest. “Shall we?” she asked, her words both an invitation and a challenge, knowing he would not deny her.
Darcy’s breath hitched, the tension between them palpable. Without a word, he reached for her, his lips finding hers in a kiss that was both tender and hungry, as if they were both starved for this moment. The years of restraint, the quiet yearning—all of it came rushing to the surface in that single kiss.
“You drive me quite mad, Elizabeth,” he whispered against her lips, his hands guiding her towards the bed.
Elizabeth’s heart raced as she followed him. She could feel so much—the heat of his hand on her waist, the brush of his breath against her skin, the pounding of his heart—and it made her feel alive in a way she had never felt before.
As they came nearer, Darcy paused, turning towards her, his gaze intense. “Are you certain, Elizabeth?” His voice was low, but the vulnerability in it was clear. “You have only to say the word, and we can wait until you are comfortable.”
Elizabeth stepped closer, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, the feel of his skin sending a shiver through her. She looked up at him, her expression soft but filled with an undeniable desire. “I am,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I want this, Fitzwilliam. I am ready to be your wife.”
Without a word, Darcy’s eyes roamed over her form, and his desire mirrored her own. He pulled her close again, his lips capturing hers with a fervency that took her breath away. His kiss deepened, and Elizabeth felt her pulse quicken in response, the world around them fading into nothing but the warmth of his embrace.
She broke the kiss, her breath ragged, and met his gaze. “Make me yours,” she said, her voice raw with emotion.
Darcy’s hands moved to her shoulders, his touch gentle but firm as he pulled her towards the bed. “You are, my love. You always have been. And I am yours.”
The words were like a spark, igniting the fire between them once more. They helped each other undress until she was just in her shift and he was only in his trousers. Laying her on the bed with reverence, he gazed at her as though she were the most precious thing in the world.
As he leant over her, his lips traced a path down her neck, and Elizabeth’s breath caught. She arched into him, her body pressing against his as if they were two halves of the same whole. “Fitzwilliam,” she breathed, her voice thick with longing.
“I am here, love,” he whispered, his lips moving back to hers as he joined her, each lost in the shared warmth and intimacy of the moment. The world outside ceased to exist, and all that mattered was this connection between them.
Later, they lay together, each feeling a deep sense of completeness. She was his, as he was hers. In that moment, nothing else mattered—only the two of them, wrapped in the intimacy of their love.