Chapter 20 #2
“Lydia, you should be reserved with your expectations about parties and balls. Both Jane and I shall be busy with other duties,” Elizabeth scolded.
“Do not worry, we shall find a way to please everyone,” Lady Kendal answered conciliatorily. “For now, let us celebrate this special day upon which I have been gifted with a granddaughter and a most reliable friend.”
“And I with a most wonderful wife and companion!” Lord Alveston added, kissing Elizabeth’s hand.
The entire day was spirited and joyful, as such a celebration required. The Bennets, the Gardiners, and the Bingleys remained at the cottage until late in the evening. Mrs Bennet used any excuse to call her daughter ‘Lady Alveston’, and the others ceased any attempt to ruin her pleasure.
Elizabeth felt her extended family’s satisfaction, her husband’s pride and delight, and her new grandmother’s enjoyment.
She knew she had made the correct step towards keeping her promise.
She would not repine, but the sensation of fulfilling her duty did not diminish the misery that burdened her heart.
She forced herself to show happiness, to smile at every kind word, to laugh with everyone. And most of all, she forced herself to not think of Darcy on her wedding day. And she failed.
Late that night, her family returned to their homes and silence fell over the cottage.
Mary hurried to her chamber, and Lady Kendal, the earl, and his new wife remained at the dinner table for a little longer.
Philip looked pale and exhausted, but his eyes sparkled with adoration when he looked at Elizabeth.
“We should ring for Marlowe,” Elizabeth said. “You have not rested a single moment since morning, and it is time to do so without delay.”
“I do feel tired, but I am happier than I have ever been,” Philip answered. His eyes narrowed, and Elizabeth knew this was a sign that the light was hurting his eyes and causing a headache.
He seemed to be struggling for air but smiled again. “I shall call for Marlowe soon. But I would like to have another glass of wine with you. I know I have already had one too many, but I must be allowed to dismiss any caution on my wedding night. Would you join me?”
As he tried to pour some wine, his hands trembled from fatigue and he dropped the glass. He cursed, then apologised, embarrassed by his weakness.
“Perhaps you should call for Marlowe and prepare for the night,” Elizabeth suggested, “and I shall come to you later and we can have a glass of wine together in your chambers. Would that be acceptable?”
Philip looked at her with astonishment. “Acceptable? That would be wonderful!”
Marlowe took his master up the stairs while Elizabeth remained a moment longer with Lady Kendal.
“Thank you, my dear. That was very considerate of you,” her ladyship said.
“What do you mean?”
“That you intend to spend a little time with Philip tonight. Even under the peculiar circumstances, this is the most special night of his life. He has been all anticipation the last fortnight, and I believe this excitement has enhanced his strength.”
“I surely do not deserve any thanks. It gives me pleasure to make my husband happy, you know that quite well. And, although our marriage will not be conventional, I have every intention of behaving as any wife would.”
“Thank you, my darling,” her ladyship repeated, overwhelmed with emotion. “Now I know that, if anything should happen to me, Philip will be well taken care of and everything I have started will continue.”
“None of that, Lady Kendal,” Elizabeth replied. “You are healthy and strong. Let us entertain only happy thoughts on this day.”
“May it be as you say. Now let me wish you good night, my dear. I am proud to call you my granddaughter, and I would be delighted if you would consider me your grandmother and call me so.”
“I would be glad to, Grandmamma.” Feeling emotional and burdened by the faith Lady Kendal had placed in her, Elizabeth embraced her lovingly. If only she would rise to such high expectations and not disappoint them.
Half an hour later, Elizabeth was in her chamber, dressed in her night rail, dressing gown, and bedroom slippers. She tied her hair with a ribbon and glanced at her image in the mirror.
With some emotion, uncomfortable with the notion of entering a man’s bedchamber, even if he was her husband, she stepped into the hall hesitantly and knocked on Philip’s door. Marlowe answered her knock and then excused himself to the dressing room.
Philip was in his bed, propped up against pillows, covered to his chest. He was pale, his blue eyes surrounded by dark circles. He smiled at her. The window was half open, and the soft breeze chilled the air.
On the small table, there was a bottle of port and two glasses. Elizabeth poured the red liquid, then drew up a chair to the bed.
“You look beautiful, Lady Alveston. Stunning.”
“Thank you, Lord Alveston. You look handsome yourself.”
“I do not. I know that only too well. I just hope I do not look appalling to you.”
“Never fear that! And never say that again.”
“I know as my health worsens, my looks will fade.”
Elizabeth put her glass down next to his and took his hands. “I regret I cannot be a true husband to you, Elizabeth. But I wonder if you would have married me if I could.”
“Philip, let us not have this conversation again, my darling. We are husband and wife now, and I look forward to sharing time, care, and enjoyment with you. Once we return to London, I would like to move into the mistress’s chambers.
I understand you need your privacy, as do I…
But I wish to keep the doors between our apartments unlocked.
I want you to call on me whenever you wish, and I would like to know I may enter to see you at any time.
Never think you could look appalling to me! ”
He brought their joined hands to his lips with gratitude.
“Your generosity leaves me lost for words, my beloved. You are the answer to my prayers. You are truly my life, Elizabeth.”
She smiled. “I am your wife, Philip. Now, shall we have some wine, or did you only mislead me with the promise of it?”
They each lifted their glasses, toasted each other with warmest wishes, and then carried on a light conversation until the glasses were empty.
Embracing her new husband again, Elizabeth retired to her room. It was the end of the longest day of her life—the first day of her new life.
Exhausted from lack of sleep and prolonged, lasting turmoil, Lady Alveston, née Elizabeth Bennet, finally fell into a long, dreamless sleep.
∞∞∞
Darcy stared at the newspaper, not touching it as if the paper might burn his fingers. He needed no more details—Elizabeth had married Lord Alveston. He remembered that the wedding was planned to take place in London in the autumn.
Surely there must have been reasons why their plans had changed.
Just as had happened with Anne and Richard.
The rumours and gossip aroused by his broken engagement and the shocking marriage of his two cousins had become the talk of the ton.
Fortunately, most of their common acquaintances were spending the summer outside of London, so the scandal was kept to reasonable proportions and was likely to fade before the Season began.
The union between Anne and Richard had easily been accepted by the Matlocks.
Lady Catherine, however, had been driven to the edge of her sanity.
After many heated arguments, the wedding had taken place. Much to Lady Catherine’s despair, her influence over her daughter was finished the moment Mrs Anne Fitzwilliam claimed full ownership of her legacy, in which she had never shown an interest before.
Darcy assisted with a complete lack of interest, content to be only a spectator and to support his cousins when needed. He did not, however, escape Lady Catherine’s accusations of causing the entire scandal by refusing to marry Anne sooner, but he had the liberty to ignore such a foolish statement.
Darcy was determined to leave London as soon as he was certain Georgiana felt self-possessed enough to remain alone in her townhouse with Mrs Annesley.
His sister had grown in confidence lately.
There was only a slight resemblance to the shy girl who had suffered from a broken heart two years before.
Her close bond with Anne, as well as the friendship with Jane Bingley and even with Elizabeth, allowed him to hope that she would not feel alone or abandoned without him.
He was uncertain whether he would go and stay at Pemberley or one of his other estates, or simply travel from one to another. He would return to town occasionally but was determined to avoid the Season and any chance of meeting Elizabeth again.
He had counted the days, hours, and minutes since he had last seen her.
His recollections were so powerful, so alive, so painful that he could not trust his reaction if he happened to meet her again.
Her taste was still on his lips, her scent still intoxicated him, his skin was still grieving the loss of her caresses.
But more than anything, the longing to hold her, to feel her heartbeat near his, was unbearable.
He blamed himself for everything, more with every passing day. He would never forgive himself for ruining their chance of sharing a lifetime of love and happiness.
And, as Elizabeth begged him, he could not wait and wonder if or when she might be alone again, or how her feelings for him would change with time.
Of his feelings, he had no doubts. Nothing would ever diminish his love for her, as she had become part of his mind and his body.
She had become part of him. And since she already belonged to another, he would leave.
“Sir, you have received a letter.” The butler entered, holding out the silver tray. Darcy glanced at it and recognised the writing.
“Have the trunks been brought down?”
“Of course, sir. All is prepared for the journey.”
He nodded, then read through the letter, rolling his eyes in exasperation. He hesitated only a moment before writing one of his own and sending it express.
And then all was done. He was ready to travel wherever his torment would take him.