Chapter 42 Marrying by Licence
MARRYING BY LICENCE
Elizabeth performed admirably in her introduction to the earl and countess, both of whom appeared mightily bewildered by the extraordinary events unfolding before them.
“I did as you asked,” said Lord Matlock once they had all convened in the drawing room. “But I confess, Darcy, I should never have imagined you, of all people, to steal off with a woman.”
“Some women are worth stealing,” he said, turning his head to give Elizabeth, beside him, a warm smile. She blushed and looked down.
“Yes, that is all very sweet,” said Lord Matlock impatiently. “But I want to understand. I have played my part, but I can only hope I am not an old fool. You will do well enough to marry tomorrow; for this afternoon, I should like to have some answers about all of this wildness.”
“It seems I ought to start at the beginning,” Darcy said and told his aunt and uncle about meeting Elizabeth and becoming enraptured with her; of nearly proposing to her in Kent—a plan that caused his aunt to laugh and his uncle to enquire as to whether he was of sound mind—and of all the measures taken since to win her, including the eventual vanquishment of a determined rival.
“Sounds a complicated business,” Lord Matlock said gruffly.
“Not sure I understand you young people and your wish to make it all so difficult! My first meeting with your aunt was at a ball. I called the next day, proposed, and we married about a month thereafter. Miss Bennet, it was good of you to bide your time and wait for Darcy here to come to the point!”
“It was easy enough, I daresay, as she despised me rather passionately,” Darcy said while Elizabeth gasped beside him. Gasped, but did not deny it.
“Despised him!” Lady Matlock cried out. “But why?”
Elizabeth was blushing deeply by then and said, merely, “Mostly because I misunderstood him and his character.”
“Elizabeth prevaricates, likely not wishing to abuse me to my relations,” said Darcy with a reassuring smile towards her. When he explained to Lord and Lady Matlock just what he had done to earn her ire, they both looked at him agape.
Lady Matlock was first to recover, leaning forwards, and looking at Elizabeth very earnestly.
“My dear, pray allow me to offer a bit of advice. My nephew is a very wealthy man, it is true, and can offer position and a life that few ladies could dream of. But if you cannot respect or like your husband, I fear it will all be for naught.”
Elizabeth set down the teacup she had been holding. “I can see why you might have such concerns, my lady, but allow me to reassure you in the strongest possible terms that nothing but the deepest love has persuaded me to accept your nephew’s hand.”
She turned to look at Darcy and said, still speaking to his aunt and uncle, “I love him. Truly I do. He is the best of men, and if he were a pauper, I would still think of him just so. Tomorrow I shall become the happiest and most fortunate of creatures, and it is only because he has my heart.”
Darcy could not speak for a moment, overwhelmed by the upwelling of emotion within his chest. At last he said, “We will both be the happiest and most fortunate of creatures.”
Reaching out, she took his hand and gave it a little squeeze.
“Tomorrow,” he whispered.
“Tomorrow,” she murmured in agreement.
The afternoon was spent on tasks related to their marriage.
Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived and was greeted with pleasure both by his cousin and his cousin-to-be.
He was vastly entertained by the notion of his elder brother, yet in the humble society of Hertfordshire, determinedly seeking Miss Goddard’s hand.
“Stranger things have happened,” said he. “Perhaps Saye will settle down after all.”
“Miss Goddard will require more wooing before that happens,” Darcy told him.
After a dinner of only the three of them—Lord and Lady Matlock having a prior engagement to attend—they moved to the saloon.
Fitzwilliam sat immovably with them, reading a newspaper while Darcy and Elizabeth talked.
Rather, Darcy watched Elizabeth talk, enchanted by listening to the sound of her voice and utterly fixated on the movement of her lips.
He had been almost unable to believe she would become his wife, and now that he knew she would, all he could think of was the fact that by this time tomorrow, she would be his.
Time seemed to move by at a crawl, and he wished, desperately, for this day to conclude.
She licked her lips before asking, “Do you not think so?”
“Of course,” he said. Then he realised it might not be correct and said, “That is, if you think so. My darling.”
She laughed and her eyes sparkled. “Mr Darcy, that will not do. If you are any more agreeable, people will think I lead you about by the nose.”
“You are welcome to lead me about by any part of my body you like.” The sentence emerged before he could stop it, and she turned pink, even while giving him a bashful look that was utterly beguiling.
His need to kiss her was almost undeniable, and he leant towards her just as Fitzwilliam loudly turned the page of his newspaper.
Good lord, but he needed to get rid of his cousin! For just a few moments, even!
Looking over, he beheld Fitzwilliam reading his paper with seeming contentment. He cleared his throat loudly, hoping his cousin would understand it. Nothing. He tried again.
Fitzwilliam did not raise his eyes from his paper as he said, “Darcy, I pray you are not getting ill.”
“No, I am not.”
Fitzwilliam looked up from his paper with a broad smile which communicated to Darcy that he knew exactly how frustratingly obtuse he was being. “Are you certain? Perhaps Mrs Ambrose will make you up some tea with honey?”
“Oh yes,” Elizabeth said. “I would not have you taking ill! It must be from our early morning travels.”
“No, no, I am perfectly well.” Darcy gave Fitzwilliam a pointed frown, which Fitzwilliam ignored, returning his gaze to his newspaper.
“Just a tickle in my throat. Fitzwilliam, I was just wondering if you were enjoying reading your paper well enough? The light seems to have grown too dim. Perhaps the west sitting room would better suit your purpose.”
“I feel quite satisfied sitting here,” said Fitzwilliam, offering Elizabeth a smile. “In any case, Father has asked me to chaperon Miss Bennet as he and Mother are gone out. I would not wish to shirk my duty.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Elizabeth.
“I would thank you,” said Darcy, “were that at all necessary, but I assure you, it is not. We will marry tomorrow before most of London eats breakfast. I cannot think too much harm might befall her tonight.”
“Probably not,” Fitzwilliam agreed. “But then again, one cannot be too sure.”
“Elizabeth and I naturally have matters to discuss pertaining to our wedding and marriage which are best discussed privately.”
“You can depend on my discretion. I am not even listening.” Fitzwilliam offered a small smirk.
Darcy frowned at his egregiously vexatious cousin, and then back at Elizabeth. Lord, but she is lovely, he thought. Should I take her for a walk?
It was not yet dark, not even dusk. Perhaps a walk would do.
But to where? The park was sure to be full of people, people who would only interfere with their time together.
Of course, he might tell Fitzwilliam he meant to take her to the park and instead take her to Darcy House. Would it be too bold?
“What say you to a walk?” he whispered.
“I would love that,” she replied. “I shall go and get my things.”
Fitzwilliam folded his newspaper. “A walk sounds marvellous.”
As soon as the door closed behind her, Darcy said, “You are not invited on our walk.”
“What? You wound me.”
“Surely you see we need some time alone? You are interfering—”
“My father has given me orders to stay with you. Would not want a scandal, would we?” He laughed uproariously at his own wit.
“Leave us alone or I shall thrash you. I know it has been a long time, but I will manage it well, and it will not be pretty, on that you may depend.”
Fitzwilliam laughed. “I say, Darcy, you are sounding quite desperate.”
“I just eloped with a woman, and I cannot get my family to leave us alone long enough to enjoy it!”
“Father instructed me to watch over her exactly as if she were Georgiana and you, Georgiana’s suitor. Think of it this way: if it were Georgiana sitting here with her suitor, would you wish me to simply leave them alone?”
He had a point of course, but Darcy would never acknowledge it to him. Thus Darcy’s only response was a defeated sigh and a roll of his eyes. He regained his seat just as Elizabeth returned to the room.
“My cousin is proving quite the impediment,” he murmured to her. “I am inclined to call his behaviour officious.”
“Officiously interfering,” Elizabeth replied agreeably. “Positively the worst.”
The morning light streamed through the tall windows of the Matlock drawing room the next day as Elizabeth prepared to surrender the name Bennet for Darcy.
It was strange, excessively strange, to have Mr Gardiner perform the office of giving her away in her father’s stead, but her father had been no friend to her of late.
It was better not to be reminded of that strife.
No matter that her ladyship had been given precious little time to prepare, the room was as beautiful as any bride could wish for.
Flowers adorned every surface, their scent delicate and sweet.
But Elizabeth saw none of it, for her eyes found Darcy immediately, standing before the clergyman with Colonel Fitzwilliam by his side.
He turned as she approached, and the naked emotion in his face nearly undid her.
Joy, wonder, reverence—all there for her to see, unguarded in a way she had never witnessed before.
His dark eyes never left hers as she crossed the room, each step bringing her closer to the future she had once deemed impossible.
When she reached him, he extended his hand, and she placed hers in it without hesitation. His fingers closed around hers, warm and steady, anchoring her.
The ceremony passed in a dreamlike haze.
She heard her own voice, amazingly clear and certain, making promises she meant with her whole heart.
She heard Darcy’s voice, deeper and rougher with emotion than usual, pledging himself to her completely.
When the clergyman pronounced them man and wife, Darcy lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her fingers that lingered long enough to make Lady Matlock clear her throat with gentle amusement.
“My wife,” he murmured, as though testing the words. His thumb traced circles on her palm beneath the gold ring that he had somehow managed to procure for her.
“My husband,” she replied, a broad smile she could not contain breaking out across her face.
There was a small breakfast afterwards attended only by those present in the drawing room: Mr and Mrs Gardiner, Lord and Lady Matlock, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr and Mrs Darcy.
“Were you shocked,” Elizabeth asked her aunt, “to receive my note?”
It had been on Darcy’s urging that she invited her uncle to give her away, and she thought it wonderful of him, particularly given the fact that he had not yet met them.
When they arrived, looking as fine and fashionable as they ever did, the look of relief on his countenance showed that he had been not quite as sanguine as he had purported to be on the scheme.
She was relieved as well, relieved he should see the excellence of relations so dear to her and relieved that he should know she did have some relations that would not cause them embarrassment.
“I was very shocked,” her aunt answered. “And concerned too, if I am being honest. But one look at your happy face has allayed all my fears.”
Beside Elizabeth, her new husband observed, “Saye is going to be enraged that he has missed the cake.”
“Perhaps we might bring some with us back to Hertfordshire?” Elizabeth hated even the sound of that. Hertfordshire. How she longed to remain here, in this world of refinement and elegance where no one spoke ill of her!
“I have already considered that,” said Lady Matlock. “Cook has made a whole separate cake for your return. Perhaps it will sweeten your reception.”
Elizabeth smiled and thanked her for the hundredth time. “Truly, I cannot tell you how very appreciative I am—”
“Say no more, Niece,” said her ladyship. “It is what family does for one another. Is that not true, Mrs Gardiner?”
Mrs Gardiner smiled. “I think I must echo Elizabeth’s sentiments, my lady. You have truly gone above and beyond for our happy couple.”
“To happiness,” Colonel Fitzwilliam exclaimed, raising his glass. The others quickly echoed him.
Darcy’s fingers tightened around hers. “To love,” he added quietly. “Ardent love which cannot be put aside.”