Chapter Thirty-One
May 1812
F our days later, marriage articles and jewelry in his saddlebags, Mr. Darcy returned to Netherfield. As his stallion bore him the thirty miles to his destination, he was, he realised, happier than he had ever been in his life! Was it the warmth of the sun that bestowed such a blissful mood? Or the cerulean colour of the cloudless sky? The caress of the wind through his hair?
No, it was none of those things, though it seemed more than appropriate that the whole world take part in his joy! It was the knowledge that Elizabeth awaited him! He had thought about her, night and day, and was counting the days – nay, the hours! – until she was truly his.
At the entrance to Netherfield, he tossed his horse’s reins to the stable boy. “Take good care of him,” he advised the lad, handing him a shilling and then removing his valuables from the saddlebags.
“Thankee, milord!” the boy called out, clutching the coin.
He needed to remember to give vails to all the Netherfield servants; he had quite forgotten to do so last week, but did he not have a good reason for his forgetfulness? Elizabeth!
Hughes opened the front door, saying, “The Master and the Mistress are in the drawing room, Mr. Darcy.”
The Bingleys rose to greet him; it was all he could do not to embrace them both, so great was his joy at now being a mere three miles from Longbourn.
“All is well, I trust, Mr. Darcy?” Mrs. Bingley asked.
“William,” he reminded her. “Yes, all is very well indeed. The marriage articles are ready for Mr. Bennet’s perusal and signature.”
“May I offer you refreshments, Mr. Darcy?”
He hesitated. “Would you think me dreadfully ill-bred if I said I would prefer to wash, change and make my way immediately to Longbourn?”
She laughed, musically. “No, I would think you a man in love. Go, then; we will not expect you back until after dinner!”
Mr. Darcy ran upstairs to his room, greeted Evans cheerfully, and was soon washed and properly dressed to call upon his betrothed.
***
At Longbourn, the four Bennet daughters were in the parlour; Mary was reading, Kitty and Lydia were engaged in trimming a hat that Jane had left behind, and Elizabeth was staring out the window.
“Lizzy, stop it!” her mother scolded her. “There is a full basket of mending for the Donaldsons at your feet; they will not thank you for spending your entire day watching for Mr. Darcy.”
Elizabeth sighed. “You are right, Mama,” and she bent her attention to the mending. Mrs. Donaldson was able to sew well enough, but with a new baby to tend, she had been grateful for Elizabeth’s offer of assistance.
But no sooner had she completed the stitching of a torn sleeve on Mr. Donaldson’s flannel shirt, than Mrs. Hill came in to tell them that Mr. Darcy had just arrived. Elizabeth leapt to her feet, only to be corrected by her mother. “Sit down , Lizzy! So much enthusiasm is hardly appropriate.”
It seemed to Elizabeth that enthusiasm for one’s marriage partner was very appropriate, but it was not worth arguing over. Mr. Darcy appeared in the doorway; all five Bennet ladies curtsied politely – even the two youngest – and Mrs. Bennet offered him refreshments.
He replied courteously that he would indeed appreciate refreshments, but his eyes were glued to Elizabeth as he spoke. She smiled at him! Yes, she smiled and then looked away, blushing, but her eyes immediately returned to his. She had missed him, as he had her; she had thought of him, as he had her. All was well.
He was able, only then, to relax in his chair and accept a cup of tea from his beloved’s hands, prepared just as he liked it.
“I trust everyone at Longbourn is well?” he asked.
“Oh, very well, indeed,” Mrs. Bennet replied. “Cook’s assistant had a bit of a sniffle and we feared she had a cold, but it turned out to be nothing at all.”
“Mama,” Elizabeth protested. “Mr. Darcy can hardly be interested in the health of our cook’s assistant!”
Mr. Darcy smiled at her. “I am interested in anything that has to do with you , Elizabeth.”
“Oh, very well-spoken!” Mrs. Bennet cried. “Very well indeed!” Then she leaned forward, her eyes intent on his face. “Are there any special guests coming to the wedding?”
He would not pretend to mistake her meaning. “The Earl and Countess of Matlock will attend; they will stay at Netherfield.”
Mrs. Bennet was overjoyed. “Oh, my! This is beyond anything I ever imagined!”
The two younger girls tittered, but Mary was paying no attention to any of the goings-on around her, and was – as usual – intent on her book.
“Miss Mary, I see you are reading again. Dare I hope that you have abandoned the Reverend Fordyce?”
“I have heeded your counsel, Mr. Darcy.” She showed him her book.
“Ah! A Vindication of the Rights of Woman ! And what think you, Miss Mary?”
She frowned in puzzlement. “Everything she writes makes so much sense, but I cannot help feeling that her beliefs are in direct contradiction to the word of our Lord.”
“That is likely a result of you encountering Fordyce first. Imagine, now, that you had read Miss Wollstonecraft first, and then picked up the Reverend’s work. What would you think then?”
She considered it, brow creased, and then looked up at him, her face open and smiling. “Why, I would think his work to be the veriest nonsense! How very clever you are, Mr. Darcy!”
“We are to be brother and sister; I hope you will call me William,” he said, colouring at her praise, and thinking that she was not so plain after all.
“Very well; then I am Mary,” she replied, shyly.
“And I am Kitty!” came another voice.
“And I am Lydia!” said yet another.
“And you may call me Bennet,” a deep voice from the doorway said, with amusement.
Mr. Darcy rose to his feet. “Bennet, I have documents for you to review. And perhaps, after that, Elizabeth and I might walk together in the garden?”
***
Mr. Darcy had been exceedingly generous with his betrothed, so there was little to do in the study except to assure Bennet of his ability to afford such pin money, dowries and inheritances. Thus, it was not long before he found himself in the garden with Elizabeth on his arm.
“Did you miss me?” she asked, shyly.
“Every moment of every day,” he vowed. “Dare I hope that you missed me as well?”
She assured him that she had, saying, “I have come to quite depend on your daily visits, William.”
“Soon we will be living together, not visiting!”
“It seems strange, does it not?” she asked.
“To be living together?”
“Well, yes. But, truly, the whole system is strange. We women spend our girlhoods in our parents’ homes, if we are fortunate enough to have both parents and homes, and then we are suddenly uprooted and moved far away to spend the remainder of our lives elsewhere, living far from our family.”
“Of course, many ladies marry quite close to home; you are simply unfortunate in your choice of husband.” His voice was teasing, but there was a note of questioning in it. Would she be unhappy far away from Hertfordshire?
She stopped him then, slipped her hands into his and said, softly, “I cannot imagine being more fortunate in my choice of husband, William.”
He kissed her then, softly, as he had been yearning to do for so long. She met his lips with her own, increasing the pressure. He pulled her body close to his, groaning into her mouth. But far too soon, he pulled himself away, trying unsuccessfully to control his rapid breath. “Soon, my beloved,” he whispered to her. “Soon…”
Elizabeth’s heart was hammering in her ears. “William,” she gasped.
“Elizabeth, my Elizabeth!” He leant his forehead against hers. “I want you desperately, but we must wait. We must.”
She nodded, unable to speak. Certainly she did not wish any further intimacies to take place in Longbourn’s back garden; but she seemed unable to control her responses. It was well that he was able to do so!
***
Later that night, Kate helped Elizabeth get ready for bed. “You are a lucky young lady, Miss Elizabeth,” she said.
“You mean because of Mr. Darcy?”
“Yes, indeed! What a fine lady you will be!”
“I wish you would come to Pemberley, Kate. I shall know no one there, and it would be a great comfort to have you with me.”
Kate shook her head. “You will have many servants at your disposal.”
Elizabeth sighed. “But I shall know none of them, Kate.”