Chapter 29
Elizabeth woke the following morning in the midst of a beautiful dream.
Yet, when she recalled the events of the past few months, she decided that reality was even better.
Looking up at the magnificent ceiling, painted with plump angels in the style of centuries past, she thought of Darcy’s house—their house—for in less than a month she would live there with her husband.
There was nothing old-fashioned about his home.
The few rooms she had seen, especially her parlour, were elegant and furnished in the latest taste.
Whether Pemberley resembled it or not, she liked both the old and the modern; what truly mattered was the master.
The master of those houses, the master of her heart and body.
The memory of the previous day swept over her in a warm tide of pleasure and anticipation.
She did not hear the knock at the door, but she saw it slowly opening, and then Jane’s head appeared.
“You are not sleeping!” she cried reproachfully, leaping into her sister’s bed as she had done all her life in the bedroom they had shared at Longbourn.
“I have only just woken up!” Elizabeth protested.
“I knocked!”
“I did not hear you.”
“Of course you did not. Now that you are almost Mrs Darcy, you require a butler to announce your poorer sister.”
They laughed as they always had. Then they fought with pillows, the only war two good little girls ought ever to know.
“My poor sister, what is she doing awake at seven o’clock in the morning? Does she have no duty towards her husband?” Elizabeth teased.
“Not every morning,” Jane replied, and the new Mrs Bingley blushed as she realised what she had just said.
“You still blush. I thought that would disappear once you became a married woman.”
“It will…or perhaps it will not. I am still not accustomed to speaking of intimacy.”
“And yet your sister waits eagerly for your wisdom, wishing to know what she may expect from married life.”
In truth, she was not particularly curious about anything Jane might reveal. She had already begun her own journey of discovery, and whatever she learned at each step would arise from her own experiences, her own feelings, and her growing knowledge of the man she loved.
“Many wonders await you, and many things we could never have imagined. Wait a little, and you will soon discover them.”
“Yes, you are right. But how did you wake so early?”
“Well, my dear, married life is not quite what you imagine,” Jane replied, though every movement, every expression, and every word contradicted her claim. Happiness shone through her entire being.
“I thought my husband would appreciate, as I do, remaining in bed until late. Yet no matter how late we retire, he is awake at six o’clock and does everything in his power to wake me.
This morning, seeing how tired I was, he slipped out of the room on tiptoe, only to return half an hour later, making an enormous noise and bringing news. And what news!”
“What?” Elizabeth cried, suddenly fearful that something had happened to threaten her happiness. Yet Jane remained far too cheerful for the matter to concern her engagement.
“He met Uncle Thomas in the park, and Uncle Thomas told him that Mr Kendall is not the duchess’s grandson at all, but an impostor!”
Elizabeth let her head fall back upon the pillow in astonishment.
“No!”
“Yes. It seems that his family purchased the house from Mrs Kendall when she left for America with her family. Most of what he told us was true, however. The stories came from his own life. A remarkably shrewd man.”
“Oh, the poor duchess. Fortunately, she is married to our uncle now, and they are happy together.”
“Yes, and they are not angry with him. Through him, they discovered where Mrs Kendall is, and they intend to find her or her family.”
“But how did he learn so many details?”
“It seems that the duchess wrote regularly to her daughter and, instead of forwarding the letters to New York as he ought to have done, Andrew intercepted them and kept them.”
“What a story! And you are quite certain they are not angry?”
“They are saddened by it, yet not sufficiently angry to drive him away. They do not wish to risk a scandal, and only the family will know the truth.”
“He tried to court me,” Elizabeth murmured.
Jane already knew everything that had happened in London through Elizabeth’s letters.
“Yes.”
Elizabeth tried not to let the news affect her, yet a small portion of her happiness seemed to vanish.
“Do not worry,” Jane said softly. “Not on the first day of your betrothal.”
“I am not worried. I am angry that he wished to use me to secure his place here.”
“Yes, but your anger cannot last long. In the end, you chose the right man, the man who loves you and who speaks the truth even when it causes pain.”
Elizabeth watched her sister as she spoke. Jane did not yet wholly like Darcy, but she knew her well enough to recognise that such reservations would disappear as soon as he became the husband of her favourite sister.
“No, it cannot. In truth, he helped me understand how much I loved Darcy. All my fears concerning his life, his friends, and his family were nonsense. They were merely the last remnants of my resentment at his initial dislike of ours.”
“But he adores Uncle Thomas. You have said so more than once, and he appears to get on very well with Papa.”
“Yes. Everything was before my eyes, and still I failed to see it. Mr Kendall helped me discover the true feelings hidden beneath everything I had accumulated against Darcy during those months. The months before Kent and those that followed, until our meeting at Netherfield. He showed me that I did not want a simple man or a simple life. I wanted Darcy and his life, and I shall learn to live it and enjoy it.”
“I could have told you that long ago, from the very day our gentlemen arrived together at Netherfield.”
“Oh, be quiet, Jane Bingley! On that day you saw nobody but Mr Bingley.”
“True. Yet Charles told me a great deal about Mr Darcy, and I knew how much he loved you. Still, we decided that we would never interfere between two people.”
“A wise decision, and I am certain we shall follow the same rule ourselves.”
“I have other good news. Yesterday, the duchess told me that she wishes us to become the masters of this house. She asked us not to purchase another residence but to consider this one our own.”
“Ours as in the Bennets, or ours as in the Bingleys?”
“The Bingleys, my dear. Naturally, our sisters may remain here or at Netherfield until they marry, or even for life if they wish it. Yet we are to inherit this house and continue its traditions. She even whispered that she would attempt to obtain a title for Mr Bingley, as she enjoys excellent relations with the Regent.”
“And is that truly what you both want?”
“Yes, absolutely. I love the idea of continuing the duchess’s work and preserving all that she has created here.”
“Then, my dear, I wish you happiness with all my heart as the new duchess.”
“A symbolic duchess,” Jane replied.
“Symbolic or not, you are the only one amongst us who could fulfil such a role. Poor Mama,” Elizabeth added playfully, “she wanted to be mistress of this house—”
A knock at the door made them jump, just as they had done throughout all those years at Longbourn whenever their endless conversations threatened to make them late for breakfast or dinner.
“Miss Bennet, your mother sent me to help you dress!” called the maid.
They laughed like the little girls they would always remain in their mother’s eyes.
“Hurry up, miss! Mr Darcy and Miss Darcy are coming to breakfast, and you are still in your nightgown,” Jane said in Mrs Bennet’s voice, and they burst into laughter once more.
∞∞∞
Elizabeth reached the landing just as Darcy and his sister entered the house, and whilst Georgiana hurried away with Kitty and Lydia, delighted to be together again, Darcy remained where he was, simply admiring Elizabeth.
She was a miracle in his life, and seeing her on the morning after their betrothal, he found himself reflecting once more upon how fortunate he was.
She possessed beauty, yet also some miraculous quality that had transformed a proud, arrogant, and conceited man into one filled with love and a sincere desire to share his happiness with everyone around him.
He was now certain that he would regain the sense of family he had lost with his parents’ deaths, and he stood ready to become the husband and father that this princess descending the staircase deserved.
For the first time in her life, Elizabeth did not run down the stairs.
She descended slowly instead, enjoying every step that brought her closer to the man she loved.
That morning, no doubts remained, and no questions troubled her.
He was the man of her life, and love flowed through her veins merely at the sight of him from a distance.
He was elegant and handsome. Very handsome indeed, and she marvelled that she had failed to see it sooner.
He offered her his hand, and together they entered the dining room.
“I have so much news for you,” she murmured.
“Do not tell me that you are ready to—”
“Fitzwilliam!” she exclaimed.
The reproach existed only upon the surface of her words, as nothing would have pleased her more than finding herself in his arms in the bedroom they would choose on the night of their wedding.
“Have you made up your mind, madam, about—”
“The gown for my wedding?” Elizabeth interrupted hastily, fearing that someone might overhear their conversation.
“No.”
The answer came at once, and she blushed in front of her family, all of whom seemed determined to observe them together.
“Where is Mr Kendall?” Kitty asked, her eyes searching, as always, for the young gentleman.
Thomas and Mr Bennet exchanged a glance. They had already decided that the wisest course would be for him to return to Scotland and gradually fade from everyone’s thoughts. When Sophia eventually came to England, the matter would have been forgotten, and no explanation would be required.
“Do not worry,” said the duchess. “Once the season begins, there will be many gentlemen ready to admire our ladies.”
When the silence lingered a little too long, the duchess finally answered Kitty’s question.
“He has returned to his home and family in Scotland.”
As conversation resumed around the table, Darcy murmured in Elizabeth’s ear,
“Bad news for some of us and good news for others.”
“He left without saying goodbye,” Kitty said, shocked and saddened.
She looked towards the duchess, the only person likely to provide an explanation.
Seated beside her, the duchess had anticipated such a reaction, and a brief conversation followed between them.
No one heard what passed between them, and the secret remained their own.
Not even Lydia succeeded in discovering what the two ladies discussed, a curious occurrence that persisted from that day onward, as Kitty gradually came to realise she had a life of her own and no longer depended entirely on her sister.
Thomas Bennet took great pleasure in having his family gathered around him.
Back in Africa, he had possessed only a vague notion of what he hoped to achieve upon his return to England.
Looking at them now and listening to their cheerful voices, he finally understood that he had discovered the precious gift of love at the end of his journey.
There was the unique love of the woman he had carried in his soul for fifty years, and there were the feelings bestowed upon him by every member of his family since his return.
Each was different, yet all were equally sincere and equally profound.
Edward was smiling, once more appearing mildly bored by his family’s exuberance, yet beneath his calm countenance there was not a single anxiety to be found.
The future of his family was secure. Mrs Bennet shone in a role she had long desired, that of a delighted mother-in-law to the husbands of her two eldest daughters.
Then there were his nieces, whom he had come to regard almost as daughters of his own.
Each was special, and with each he shared a different bond.
Finally, though certainly not least, there were Darcy and Bingley, the two gentlemen who completed their family.
They represented the assurance that once the older generation was gone, those they loved would remain in safe hands.
“My dears,” he said.
The conversations ceased at once.
“I have a happy announcement to make. I have been in correspondence with my niece, Eleanor, your father’s cousin, and, together with her daughter, Augusta, she will soon travel from Newcastle to London. I hope they will arrive in time for Elizabeth and Darcy’s wedding.”
Suddenly, nothing seemed more important than the approaching marriage. Mrs Bennet readily agreed that the duchess should direct the preparations, as she fully intended to inform everyone in Meryton that Elizabeth had married into the ton and that a duchess herself had hosted the celebrations.