Chapter Twenty-Nine #2
Elizabeth’s breath caught at the sight of it.
The stone was larger than she had expected, perhaps the size of a walnut, its surface showing an iridescent quality that shifted between brown and green and purple as lamplight played across it.
This was the source of the crucial ingredient that had saved her life, that had allowed her to reclaim her own body.
The stone sat innocently among Lord Matlock’s other treasures, unaware of the role it had played in reversing dark magic.
“Please, sit,” Lord Matlock said, gesturing to two chairs positioned before his desk. He had risen when they entered, and now settled back into his own seat with the ease of someone completely comfortable in his domain.
Elizabeth tore her attention from the bezoar and took one of the offered chairs, Darcy settling into the other close enough that their sleeves nearly brushed.
Lord Matlock studied them with sharp eyes that missed little. “You wished to consult me about a legal matter, I understand. How may I be of service?”
Darcy leaned forwards slightly. “My marriage to Elizabeth,” he began, then paused as though reconsidering his approach.
“We were married this afternoon by special licence. The ceremony was properly conducted, all legal requirements met. However, circumstances surrounding the wedding have left Elizabeth uncertain about the validity of our union.”
Lord Matlock’s eyebrows rose fractionally, but his expression remained neutral. “Uncertain in what sense?”
“The marriage felt hasty,” Darcy continued, choosing words with visible care.
“We had little time to know each other properly before I proposed. Elizabeth accepted, but recent events have made her question whether she truly consented with full understanding. She feels that the speed with which everything proceeded left her no opportunity to consider matters properly.”
It was a masterful explanation, Elizabeth had to admit. Truthful enough that no actual lie had been spoken, yet carefully constructed to omit every detail about body swapping and stolen identities.
Lord Matlock leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepling before him. “I see. And you wish to know whether the marriage can be dissolved? Whether an annulment might be possible?”
“We wish to know our options,” Darcy replied carefully. “To understand what choices are available to us.”
Lord Matlock was quiet for a moment, his gaze moving between them. Then he nodded slowly, decision apparently reached.
“Your marriage is legally valid regardless of any uncertainty about the circumstances,” Lord Matlock said, his tone carrying authority.
“The vows were exchanged before proper witnesses in a church ceremony conducted by a clergyman with authority to perform such rites, in possession of a special licence. The marriage register has been signed. You are husband and wife in the eyes of both church and state.”
Elizabeth felt her chest tighten at the finality in his words.
“However,” Lord Matlock continued, his expression softening as he looked directly at Elizabeth, “if you are concerned about the hasty nature of the union, there is a solution that might address your worries without resorting to the scandal and difficulty of annulment.”
He shifted in his chair, his manner becoming less formal and more avuncular.
“You could have the banns called and be remarried publicly at Longbourn. The traditional three weeks of public announcement would give you time to adjust to your new situation, perhaps. And a second ceremony in your home parish, surrounded by family and friends, might provide the sense of connection that was lacking in today’s rushed affair. ”
The suggestion struck Elizabeth with force of revelation.
Of course. The traditional path, the one she had always assumed she would follow.
Three weeks of banns read in church, giving the community opportunity to voice any objections.
A ceremony at Longbourn with Mr. Bennet giving her away, with Jane standing beside her.
It would not erase what had happened today. Would not change the fact that legally, she was already Mrs. Darcy. But it would give her something she desperately needed, a sense of agency in a marriage that had been contracted without her true participation.
“Legally, the second ceremony would be unnecessary,” Lord Matlock continued, his tone gentle. “You are already married. But emotionally, for peace of mind, it might serve an important purpose. Give you time to come to terms with the changes in your circumstances.”
He gave Elizabeth a kindly look that suggested he understood more than she had expected. There was compassion in his face, genuine desire to help.
Elizabeth found her voice, though it emerged softer than she would have preferred. “That is very kind of you, Lord Matlock. The suggestion has merit, I think. Time would be welcome, and a ceremony at Longbourn...” She trailed off, unable to complete the thought without risk of tears returning.
“It would feel more real,” Darcy finished for her.
Lord Matlock nodded, satisfaction evident.
“Precisely. You would have three weeks to get to know each other better, to allow Elizabeth to prepare herself for her new life at Pemberley. And then a proper wedding breakfast with your family and neighbours, all the tradition and ceremony that makes such events meaningful.”
He rose from his chair, signalling that the consultation had reached its natural conclusion. “I will say this, though. Legal concerns aside, I believe you two will do well together. I see the care you show each other despite the difficulties you face. That speaks to something worth preserving.”
Elizabeth felt warmth spread through her chest at his words.
They stood as well.
“Thank you, Uncle,” Darcy said, his voice carrying genuine appreciation. “Your counsel has been invaluable, as always.”
Lord Matlock smiled, the expression transforming his rather stern features.
“That is what family is for, nephew. To help navigate difficult waters.” He moved towards the door.
“Now go. Rest. You have had an extraordinarily trying day. Tomorrow will bring its own challenges, but they can wait until you have recovered your strength.”
The blue guest room felt different when they returned to it. Elizabeth moved to the window without conscious decision, drawn by the view of London beyond the glass. Twilight had settled over the city while they were in the library, street lamps beginning to glow.
Darcy remained near the door for a moment, giving her space, before following to stand beside her at the window. Not too close, but near enough that she could feel his presence as a comforting warmth.
“I think Lord Matlock’s solution is a good one,” Elizabeth said quietly. “Time will help. And a proper ceremony at Longbourn, with my father and Jane and all the familiar faces of Meryton watching, will make it feel more real. More like something I chose.”
“I am glad,” Darcy replied, relief evident. “Three weeks should allow you to settle your feelings, to prepare yourself for the changes ahead. And it will give our families time to adjust as well. Your mother will appreciate the opportunity to plan a proper celebration, I expect.”
Elizabeth felt a smile tug at her lips despite everything. Mrs. Bennet would be in transports, would throw herself into preparations with enthusiasm that would probably drive the entire household to distraction.
“She will be impossible,” Elizabeth agreed, warmth in her voice.
“But yes, she will appreciate it. And my father...” She paused, thinking of Mr. Bennet’s expression earlier.
“He suspected something was wrong today. Did not know what, but sensed that the woman he was giving away was not quite his Lizzy. A second ceremony will give him the opportunity to actually give me away properly.”
Darcy’s hand lifted slightly, as though he wanted to touch her shoulder but thought better of it.
“Until then, you will be treated as mistress of my home without any demands placed upon you. I want to be very clear about that, Elizabeth. I will not press for intimacy you are not ready to grant. Your comfort and peace of mind matter more to me than my own desires.”
The frankness of the statement made Elizabeth’s cheeks warm, though she appreciated his directness.
“What does that mean, practically?” she asked, keeping her gaze fixed on the window. “How will we arrange things?”
“Separate bedchambers,” Darcy replied immediately, his tone businesslike.
“My townhouse has a mistress’s suite adjacent to the master’s chambers, connected by a door that shall remain locked until you decide otherwise.
You will have complete authority over all household matters.
The housekeeper will answer to you. All decisions about menus and guest lists, these will be yours to make. ”
Elizabeth felt her heart squeeze with sympathy for this proud man who was trying so hard to meet her needs.
“I already like Georgiana,” Elizabeth said, shifting the conversation to safer ground. “She seemed sweet when I met her, though too shy to speak much. I look forward to knowing her better.”
Darcy’s face transformed at the mention of his sister, warmth flooding his features. “She will love having you at Pemberley. She has been lonely, I think, with only me for company. You will bring liveliness to our home, remind Georgiana that there is joy to be found in the world.”
“I will try,” Elizabeth promised, meaning it sincerely.
They stood in companionable silence for a moment, watching darkness settle more completely over London.
“When should we travel to Longbourn?” Elizabeth asked. “I will need to speak with my father about having the banns called, since Sunday is only two days away now.”
“Tomorrow, if you feel well enough,” Darcy suggested. “Or we can wait longer, if you need more time to recover. There is no rush; the banns could wait another week, too.”
Elizabeth considered the options. “Tomorrow,” she decided. “I want to go home. Want to see familiar faces and familiar rooms. Then the first banns could be called the day after.”
“Then tomorrow it is,” Darcy agreed. “I will make arrangements with the stables to have the carriage ready.”
They remained at the window, watching twilight deepen into true night.
Their hands rested on the windowsill, so close that Elizabeth could feel warmth radiating from his skin though actual contact remained absent.
It would take only the smallest movement to close that gap, to let their fingers brush in a gesture that would mean nothing and everything simultaneously.
Elizabeth did not move. Not yet. But she thought perhaps she might, eventually.
Thought that given time and patience and continued honesty between them, she might learn to reach for him without hesitation.
Might discover that the foundation they were building could support something real and lasting.
The future remained uncertain, full of complications they had barely begun to address.
But standing here beside Darcy, with London settling into evening around them and tentative hope stirring in her chest, Elizabeth thought perhaps uncertainty was not such a terrible thing after all.
Perhaps it was simply space for possibility, room for something unexpected and genuine to grow from the strangest of beginnings.
She let her hand shift slightly on the windowsill, closing half the distance between them. Not quite touching, but closer than before. An offering, or perhaps a promise. Time would tell which.