Chapter 43 The Beginning of Happily Ever After
THE BEGINNING OF HAPPILY EVER AFTER
It was only two o’clock when they left the Matlock town house. Darcy proposed they walk back to his house—their house, even if Elizabeth had not yet seen it—and Elizabeth agreed happily. They set off after bidding farewell to the Gardiners with a promise to dine with them soon.
They set out at a gentle pace, the warmth of the summer air a delight.
“Since we have arrived, I have felt much like the stable boy must when he arrives with the scraps for the dogs.”
Elizabeth laughed. “I am not sure I understand you.”
“I always thought eloping would be a more private affair,” he said teasingly. “But instead we have been surrounded by family. I am eager to be alone with you.”
That pronouncement brought a little lurch to her heart, trepidation, delight…and who knew what else.
When they arrived at the house, the housekeeper, Mrs Hobbs, was quick to appear. She was a kindly soul, and by her age, Elizabeth imagined she had been with the house for some time. There was no time to enquire; Darcy dismissed her with a haste that made his new wife blush.
He walked her through the house; like the Matlock town house, it was elegant but not uselessly fine or gaudy. She commented on how nicely done it all was and he, with a rueful smirk, said, “You have not yet seen the place where you must sleep. That is to say, if you would… My parents did not… I…”
He opened the door nearest to them. There was a bedchamber done up in the fashions of several decades past. Deep hues of ochre and umber were accented by ornate panelling on the walls.
Elizabeth walked in very slowly, hoping to find something to compliment about it. “This was the mistress’s chamber?”
“Well…not exactly,” Darcy said.
His hand was on her back, still making the slow, gentle caress with his thumb as he had done at the breakfast. It was driving her to distraction.
“My father and mother stayed together,” he said. “This room was, in truth, never used for anyone that I know of. I have no idea who decorated it thus.”
“It has shades of Rosings,” she said with a smile.
“I had always imagined my wife would redo it, so I never worried about it overmuch.”
“Perhaps she will,” Elizabeth said with an arched brow. “Even though your wife rather likes the sound of your parents’ custom.”
She had pleased him; his eyes grew soft as he drew her into his embrace. “I had hoped you might consent to such an arrangement, but I did not wish to mention it now, with wifehood sitting so new upon you.”
“You mean with all my maidenly notions still in place.” She looked up at him. “Have I shocked you?”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “Everything about you shocks me, most of all the fact that you are mine.”
“That shocks me too,” she admitted with a laugh. “Shocks and delights me. I pray this is not but a dream.”
“It is no dream,” he said with another soft kiss. “Or if it is, it is one we share.”
“I have always thought it very strange that engaged couples are so assiduously kept apart; then in the course of an hour in one morning, they are thrown together and permitted…all of it. It seems like such a thing should be approached gradually.”
He drew back, looking down at her. “I understand,” he said. “This has all happened to you very suddenly, and if you need time—”
“Oh, no! No,” she said with a laugh. “No, I did not mean to say that is how I feel. Only that…some might.”
“You may be certain that nothing shall be taken that you are not ready to give and what is given…shall be taken gradually.”
“I know,” she murmured. “Truly I do. I placed myself in your hands the moment I stepped into the carriage yesterday. I trust you, completely.”
“Good. I could not bear it if you were…dismayed.”
“Of the act itself, I may have a little trepidation, but far more than that, I am…” She shrugged, still looking into his eyes. “I suppose I should say willing. Perhaps even…eager?”
He leant close to her, he kissed her lips, lightly tasting her, then moved to kiss the area just next to her mouth. “I am most certainly eager,” he whispered by her mouth. “For it is you, my Elizabeth, the Elizabeth I have longed for so many months.”
“Then…let us not wait.” She glanced around her. “Or perhaps suffer only a short delay to leave this room and find another more…romantic.”
“I do not know if my bedchamber can be rightly termed as romantic as yet,” he said as he turned and guided her from the room. “But let us create such memories that henceforth it shall be.”
Mr Gardiner had seen fit to write Mr Bennet a letter explaining his role in Mr and Mrs Darcy’s nuptials. Mr Bennet had replied with a missive containing all the sardonic humour that Elizabeth explained to Darcy had so frustrated her for above a decade.
“My father has disappointed me,” she said to him when she had read it on Mr Gardiner’s asking. “He was cruel to me those last days, and I would have thought knowing he was wrong would have made him kinder.”
Darcy kissed her and, not knowing what to say, only apologised.
“In any case,” she continued brightly, re-folding the note, “his letter has made me even more disinclined to return to Hertfordshire than I was previously.”
“Alas, I fear the retribution of Saye, should we tarry too long. And Georgiana might be grown anxious in my absence.”
They were in what they had begun to call the ‘Ugly Room’—but which privately Darcy thought of as the Miss Bingley room, for it was bedecked in shades she favoured.
Elizabeth had made excellent suggestions on the renovation of the room, and Darcy hoped it would be taken care of while they were at Pemberley for the autumn.
“I confess I quite forgot about your relations! Could they not leave on their own?” Elizabeth enquired, looking anxious. “Dear Georgiana! We had scarcely been acquainted when this nonsense came about.”
“I do not doubt that Saye has lingered to enjoy the scandal,” Darcy informed her. “He would not wish to miss the completion of the scheme; no doubt he is hopeful of a duel.”
“A duel?” Elizabeth exclaimed. “Heaven forfend!”
Darcy agreed with that and then suggested they leave on the morrow, which Elizabeth agreed to reluctantly.
They came into Meryton in the middle of the afternoon the next day. “I think it very odd,” Elizabeth said to him as they entered into town. “We have been away a very few days and yet how much has changed! It feels as though I have been gone an age!”
They went first to Netherfield, where Georgiana greeted them happily, welcoming her new sister with as much sororal affection as Darcy had always wanted. She had been spending a great deal of time with Jane and Miss Goddard, it seemed, and had almost wholly eschewed the society of Miss Bingley.
Saye’s welcome was anticipated and feared in equal measure. “Mrs Darcy,” he said with a kiss on the bride’s cheek. “I understand your mastery of Latin is unparalleled.”
Elizabeth tilted her head. “Of Latin?”
“Elizabeth, pray do not—” Darcy began.
“I hear you took very well to conjugation? I could only assume they spoke of Latin.” Saye then laughed uproariously at his own joke.
Happily, Elizabeth only smiled.
After a short time to rest and refresh herself, Elizabeth looked at him. “I suppose I cannot put off going to Longbourn? I am eager to see Jane.”
“Into the breach, then,” Darcy said with as much cheer as was possible.
Elizabeth knew not what to expect entering into Longbourn with Darcy behind her. Mrs Hill took their wraps and informed them the family were gathered in the drawing room.
Elizabeth nodded and, with a brief squaring of her shoulders, walked directly to the drawing room, her steps steady and sure.
Jane rushed to her immediately with a wordless cry. She fell on her sister, hugging and kissing her as if she was lately returned from war or the like. It brought a tear to Elizabeth’s eye.
Mrs Bennet was similarly joyful, exclaiming, “Mrs Darcy! Mrs Darcy!” over and over again.
She kissed Elizabeth’s cheek, then informed Darcy that as she was now his mother too, she would kiss his as well.
Her height, compared to his, did not make the feat easy, but she did manage to get reasonably in range.
She demanded a full accounting of every detail but could not stop exclaiming long enough to hear any.
Kitty and Lydia were noisy and effusive in their congratulations, but lost interest in as much time as it took Elizabeth to tell them that no, she had not had time to shop and bring them presents. Mary only offered a prim, “I pray that God will bless your marriage, no matter how it came about.”
And then there was her father. He hung back, observing his women-folk embracing and talking over one another. When the furore died a bit, he stepped forwards and offered his hand to Darcy to shake. To Elizabeth, he only nodded and said, “Well, you got your way after all.”
“If having my way means to marry by my choosing instead of being forced into an arrangement by gossip, then yes, I did.” Elizabeth gave him a tight smile.
To this, he chuckled. “Ah, my little Lizzy, a married woman,” he said fondly, as if there had been nothing to it at all.
And then Lydia bounded up. “Lizzy! You cannot believe it! Lord Saye made Charlotte go all over town telling people how she lied, and Mrs Long says she will not receive her again, and Lady Lucas and Sir William have not left the house, and—”
“And Lady Catherine is going to help her improve her character!” Kitty burst in eagerly. “Can you even imagine?”
“No, I cannot,” said Elizabeth, and suddenly the quiet of Darcy House in London felt much more like home than this chaos ever had.
Dinner was a noisy affair made bearable by the pleasantness of Mr Bingley and the quiet support of dear Jane. Everyone wished for a full accounting of her dawn escape and wished to recount, over and over again, the shame of Charlotte and the hilarity of Lord Saye at the forefront of it all.