Epilogue
Darcy and Elizabeth were married from Hertfordshire without any issue, sharing a lovely ceremony with Jane and Bingley, too.
Mrs. Bennet was ecstatic, of course: her two eldest daughters, managing to marry two prominent men, one worth five and the other ten thousand a year!
It was certainly more impressive than anything Lady Lucas's daughter had achieved—who cared about the next Mistress of Longbourn when one of her daughters was to be the Mistress of Pemberley?
Elizabeth was happy to head back to Derbyshire now as Darcy's wife—as much as she adored her family, there was something magical about her time at Pemberley, and she was eager to return to it.
Georgiana had attended the wedding but then went on to London with her companion, in order to provide the newlyweds some privacy their first autumn together in Derbyshire.
"I do hope Georgiana will come back to Pemberley soon," Elizabeth said one morning as they walked the grounds together, enjoying the cool, brisk air. Darcy chuckled.
"And she is just as eager to be here," he said, "But Elizabeth, do you mean to tell me you have tired of my company already?"
There was a teasing lilt to his voice, something that Darcy had lately learned to do better. Being around Elizabeth these last few months had taught him the art of always loving to laugh. She smirked at him and playfully pushed out of his arm.
"Oh, you've caught me out, Darcy," she said, "For that's exactly it—I shall admit, I only married you in order to gain Georgiana as a most superior younger sister."
Darcy laughed aloud at that and then raised an eyebrow at her as he pulled her back onto his arm. "She is a rather superior younger sister, is she not?"
Here Elizabeth smiled fondly as she squeezed his arm, somehow snuggling in closer. "Don't tell Mary, Kitty, or Lydia, but yes, it's true..."
They laughed together and continued their stroll.
Darcy sighed, silently taking in how contented he felt.
This was the life he never knew he was missing, not until he met Elizabeth, anyway.
She was everything he could have ever wanted in a wife—she was beautiful, clever, amusing; strong, capable, intelligent.
She was learning quickly how to manage Pemberley, and she took a compassionate interest in every aspect of the estate, all the way down to the tenant families and the people of the local village.
He couldn't have been more proud of her—and when he looked at her, he couldn't help but be filled with desire, too.
The way her hair fell about her shoulders when they were alone in her chambers, the softness of her curves and the way her nightgown fell about her body—memories of every night together constantly fueled the flame of desire he had for her during the day.
Darcy inwardly cherished the memories of not a few daytime bedroom visits—they couldn't seem to keep their hands off one another after they had first gotten married—
But lately, Elizabeth seemed rather tired, and as she begged to stop walking and sit, he frowned.
"Darling, you're tiring out more," he said in a worried tone, sitting down with her, "I do hope the lands of Derbyshire aren't too difficult for you to traverse. I need to teach you how to ride; that will make things easier."
She smiled at him weakly, laughing a little. His worried frown only deepened.
"Elizabeth, what's wrong?” he asked, “Don't make light of it: you've needed to rest more lately, a lot more. It hasn't been beyond my notice, you know. Please, you must tell me if you are ill."
Here she laughed a little more, taking his hand in hers.
"I am ill, but it is not a bad thing," she finally said, a sparkle in her eye. Darcy shook his head, worry starting to mount.
"You make little sense, my dear. Come, we will be back to Pemberley, no more walking—if you are ill, then you should rest—"
"Darcy."
He had started to rise, but the firmness in her voice stilled him. He paused and then sat back down, looking at her curiously. She was still smiling up at him, which of course made him smile back without thought.
"Yes?" he asked.
"I have some news."
Darcy's thumb caressed the back of her hand, a move so natural and effortless for him. He wondered what she was about to tell him.
"What is it, my darling?"
She beamed up at him, pausing and taking a deep breath before answering.
"I believe there will be a little Darcy here at Pemberley in some months," she finally answered. His heart seemed to stop.
"You mean—?"
"Yes."
The excitement that overtook him nearly made him stand up and scoop her into his arms, but he paused.
Instead, he took her face in his hands gently and kissed her.
Her hands found their way up his arms, and the kiss deepened.
Soon they were enmeshed in one another, oblivious to everything around them.
It was a passionate kiss, one that seemed everlasting and unending—until Elizabeth pulled away with a light laugh.
"Come now, let us not get carried away," she said gently. Darcy beamed at her, unable to remove his hands, cradling her face gently as his eyes took in all of her before him.
"You are the most beautiful creature I have ever beheld," he murmured softly. Then one of his hands gently moved downward to rest upon her belly. "You really are...?"
"Yes, I really am."
She gave him a lovely smile, and then leaned forward to kiss him once more.
This time, she didn't let go.
The End