Chapter 20
There were many rumours regarding his disappearance, although not one of them contained the real story.
The gossip lost its intensity when Darcy made his first public appearance at the theatre, accompanied by Elizabeth, his family, and friends.
Everybody had to admit that he looked as he would after a severe illness.
Friends and acquaintances hurried to greet him and wish him a speedy recovery.
They did not stay for the entire performance because of his condition, but his brief appearance had the result they had planned.
London society was sympathetic and compassionate, and any vile gossip would have been considered in bad taste.
That same night at the theatre, the ton saw Anne de Bourgh accompanying her family for the first time.
Some were curious about where her mother was.
Still, that interest faded away as Anne was a wealthy heiress who needed their complete attention.
Lady Catherine de Bourgh faded in the memory of a city that remembered and forgot at the same frenetic pace.
A rumour circulated for a while that Lady Catherine had suffered a heart attack.
But as Anne was the only heiress to the de Bourgh fortune, the subject was no longer of interest. Instead, they waited with much curiosity to see the heiress’s preferences.
To everyone’s great disappointment, she was often seen in the company of her family and a young man nobody knew.
The Matlocks accepted Elizabeth not with warmth but with an honest reserve, which was far better than the fierce opposition Lady Catherine had shown in the past. From the outside, London saw a united family, happy to have Darcy back by their side and approving of his marriage to that intriguing lady they had begun to admire.
“That was an exciting night,” Darcy said later to Elizabeth, as they spent some time together like they had done every night since their return from Kent.
“Indeed, it was,” she agreed. “I am still very angry with Lady Catherine, but I admit that keeping her role a secret is to our advantage…and Anne’s.”
“Am I right that Mr Acton sits near her on every possible occasion?”
Elizabeth nodded and revealed a little secret to her future husband. “Well, yes, but I have the feeling that it is mutual.”
“Are you sure that you want your wedding to take place in London?” he asked.
“And your wedding too, sir,” she replied with her teasing smile.
“Yes, Jane will have hers in Meryton, and I want mine in the middle of a town full of strangers. The atmosphere in Meryton still feels stifling to me at the moment. Unlike in London, in Hertfordshire the echoes of your disappearance will not die soon.”
“Elizabeth,” he said, and from his tone she could tell he wanted to speak about a more serious matter. “I know we decided to forget everything about Rosings. It seems that it is a place where only bad things happen to me…to us.”
She nodded in understanding. Even though his first proposal was some time ago, it was still regarded as a distressing event in their lives.
“But I want to be clear about one thing. At Rosings, I was drugged for many days, living in a strange dream-like state, yet not for a moment was I in any danger of betraying you.”
She looked at him with a guilty face, astonished at how well he perceived her secret worries. Since they had come back to London, they had seen a lot of Anne de Bourgh, and each time she had kept a certain distance, unsure of what had happened at Rosings between her and Darcy.
“You are a sorcerer, sir,” she said.
“I only suspect what is happening in this beautiful head of yours, but you can be sure that no matter what potion I took, my dreams and thoughts were only about you. Your image kept coming into my mind no matter how far away I floated in that delusion. You were like a welcome lighthouse on that horrible, rough sea. You do not have to believe Anne’s words, but please believe mine. ”
Elizabeth sighed deeply and smiled, liberated from her fears.
“I love you so much,” she said. “It was silly of me, but I could not stop thinking about it.”
“It is called jealousy, Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” he said teasingly.
“Perhaps,” she said, unsure.
“Surely, let a man who has tasted that feeling tell you!”
“You have tasted the feeling?” she asked, surprised. “But I only ever think about you.”
“I hope so, but there is also the past—”
“The past!” Elizabeth cried, amused. “How can that be?”
“If it could be possible, I would lock you up at Pemberley to have you for my eyes only.”
“Selfish man!”
“In love, madly in love, madam. Do not reject the feelings of a man who loves you so much.”
“Why do you love me?” she suddenly wanted to know.
He did not have to reflect on the question.
He knew the answer a long time ago when he had decided to marry her.
“Because, my darling, with you every day will be filled with a different kind of happiness. You will love me, fight me, and invent new ways of being together every second of our lives. And you, why do you love me?”
“Mostly because you are so rich,” she joked, then ran from him as he wanted to catch her. But then she stopped and let him take her into his arms while she whispered in his ear, “Because you make me feel complete.”
“Wait for the wedding night before you feel your completeness,” he said, and then he captured her lips as a promise of that magical night to come.
Their kiss lasted only a moment before he suddenly drew back.
“What would you say if we were married in two or three days—?”
“Yes,” she cried, without waiting to hear his reasons. She needed none. Nothing mattered more to her than becoming his wife as soon as possible.
“Even if the wedding day cannot unfold exactly as you have planned for so long?”
Elizabeth looked at him in astonishment, as though he were speaking of something she scarcely remembered.
“Planned? The only thing that matters is that we say our vows in church before one of us disappears again or someone interrupts the ceremony.”
“And the flowers? The carriage? The ribbons?” he asked, drawing her into his arms to hide a smile.
Elizabeth would not let him. Looking straight into his eyes, she answered in a tone he had never heard from her before, playful, affectionate, and delightfully spoiled.
“Do you mean to tell me that my future husband cannot arrange everything I desire within two or three days?”
They married in the presence of their families a week after his mysterious disappearance, in a beautiful church not far from their London home, decorated with white flowers exactly as Elizabeth had imagined what now seemed a long time ago.
It is possible that some members of the ton disapproved of his choice, and many young ladies felt offended. However, Darcy had his whole family at his side, approving his intention when The Times announced the happy event.
After the wedding, Mr and Mrs Darcy retired to Pemberley, but they spent the following season in town. Day by day, Mrs Darcy gained the gentlemen’s admiration and some of the ladies’ acceptance.
Those who had seen the newly married couple agreed that Mr Darcy was happy and deeply in love with his wife, whilst Mrs Darcy positively glowed on his arm.
Though a few rumours, whispers, and censorious looks lingered, they never reflected the opinion of the ton as a whole and gradually faded away.