Chapter 21
After the Gardiner children had stopped running around the ballroom like so many wildlings, had given their solemn thanks to Darcy and goodnight hugs to the adults, and gone off to bed, the four adults went to a small sitting room.
Uncle Edward and Aunt Maddie sat on a settee, and Elizabeth and Darcy sat down in matching chairs opposite them.
A servant brought sherry and port. When he left the room, he closed the door.
Finally alone, Elizabeth and Darcy took turns relating to the Gardiners about Elizabeth’s drugging and captivity and the lies told to Darcy.
Elizabeth was happy to share everything—even her painful feelings. Darcy and Uncle had been furious on her behalf, which was quite satisfying, and Aunt Maddie held her while she cried and cried.
When the tale was finally complete, the four were ready to tackle an extremely tough topic: What should occur, going forward?
“I will not have Jane or my parents at my wedding,” Elizabeth said. “That much is clear.”
Uncle Edward said, “I absolutely agree, but may I also state how sad I am? The only reason you wished to return to Longbourn to wed was so that you could have your father walk you down the aisle and your elder sister stand by your side.”
A last sob caught at Elizabeth’s throat. She swallowed it down and responded, “I know. I said the same thing to Darcy earlier.”
Aunt Maddie suggested, “You should get married, then inform your family that it is done. Only then ask, probably by letter, that any who wish to apologise or explain can do so in writing.”
“Yes, but Darcy is convinced that Mary, Kitty, and Lydia have no share of the blame,” Elizabeth pointed out. “So I would wish to make sure they know that I do not blame them, and—Darcy, may we invite them to Pemberley for a visit?”
“It will be your house as well as mine, dearest. You may, of course, invite anyone you wish. And I think we should allow each of your younger sisters to choose whether or not to live with us, not just visit.”
“Oh, Darcy, truly?”
“Truly. Only if you wish to, of course.”
“For now, I wish to make sure that my parents and Jane know they are not welcome at Pemberley or Darcy House, but that I welcome their letters communicating about this mess and I have hope that our enmity may end in the future.” Elizabeth hesitated and then asked, “What do all of you think about that? Is it too harsh? Not harsh enough?”
“I think it is a moderate and fair plan,” Darcy said. Elizabeth saw Uncle Edwards agree.
Aunt Maddie said, “It is probably not quite harsh enough, but I suppose it will do. Now, I suggest that you send the news in two letters, one addressed to the entire family and the other addressed to just Mary, Kitty, and Lydia. That way your parents cannot suppress your words to them. Send the letters by private messenger who will ensure that the proper people receive each letter.”
“As for my relations,” Darcy said, “I believe there will have to be far more consequences than that. I wish to consult my cousin Richard, but may I ask for the wise counsel gathered here after we come up with a plan?”
Of course, the three assured him that they would help if they could.
“Oh, Darcy!” Elizabeth said. “Georgiana and Richard did not come this evening. Did you not expect them?”
“Richard stayed awake all night, last night. By the time he reached Georgiana, he was likely in need of a proper meal, a bath, and a good night’s sleep.”
Elizabeth nodded. “That makes sense. So I guess we will see them tomorrow.”
It was not long before the adults retired to their beds.
Elizabeth found that she could not sleep.
With the drama of having been held captive by strangers—realising that her own family had participated in her abduction—and then learning that her beloved Darcy’s family had almost certainly been the originators of the plot against her—well, Elizabeth had barely paid attention to Darcy House itself.
But having had a long nap in the carriage and then another nap that afternoon, she did not feel sleepy.
She wished she could go to Darcy for some private time.
That is what she felt she needed: a reconnexion with him, to offset the knowledge that both of their families had worked against them.
She did not wish to anticipate their vows, but the time and the privacy for more kisses would be lovely. And Darcy could show her the house.
However, Darcy needed sleep. He had kept her safe in the carriage rather than sleeping, and he had traipsed all over London arranging things for the wedding rather than napping. She would not disturb him even if she could.
Finally giving up on the idea of sleep for the moment, Elizabeth rose, tied her borrowed dressing gown over her borrowed night rail, and studied her reflection in the mirror.
She was even more covered than she was when fully dressed, and she would have no shame in seeing someone—if there was a servant on duty or anyone else suffering from sleeplessness.
Except, she supposed, for her bare toes.
Elizabeth’s only footwear were her half-boots, which were quite worn after her adventures.
She could not see wearing them for a nighttime ramble, plus a maid had carried them off for cleaning when she changed for bed.
The older clothing Georgiana had stored at Darcy House fit her fairly well, being just a bit too long, and her aunt’s clothing was several inches too long but might have worked well enough if they did not have access to Georgiana’s, but Elizabeth had smaller feet than either of the other ladies.
She had tried to walk in a pair of Georgiana’s outgrown slippers, and they came right off her feet on the first step.
Deciding that the longer dressing gown would hide her bare feet if anyone should spot her, Elizabeth slipped out of her room, ready to see what would soon be her new home.
She held a single candle aloft and confirmed her first vague impression: the house was elegant and so comfortable that the word luxurious sprang to mind, but the furnishings had clean, classic lines, and the decor focused on one or two items in each space rather than excess.
It was, therefore, much like Pemberley and the opposite of Rosings, which made sense.
Darcy had credited his late mother for the look of Pemberley, although some furnishings had been updated.
Elizabeth felt sure that the same was true of Darcy House.
Smiling, Elizabeth reflected that Rosings had been a more costly version of her own mother’s love of the ornate and the fussy. Great wealth did not necessarily pair with good taste—but with the Darcys, it did.
Determined to find the library, Elizabeth found the grand staircase and went down one level, and then she began to explore the rooms they had not used that evening. She was startled, as she turned a corner, to see one door outlined in light.
There must have been at least a few servants on duty, but they would surely be patrolling corridors, not working in a room.
It must be Darcy!
Elizabeth knocked softly, and soon the door opened, and her own candle illuminated her beloved’s face.
“Elizabeth!” Darcy whispered.
“You should be asleep!” she whispered back. “Are you not exhausted?”
“I am, but that does not mean that I could sleep.”
“I slept in the carriage and while you were arranging for our wedding and fetching my aunt and uncle. But you have been awake far too long, my love.”
“I am quite used to sleeping ill,” he murmured. “This affliction has been my lot for almost a year now, ever since a certain memorable assembly last October.”
“Oh!”
Elizabeth felt quite flustered to hear that, and she felt her cheeks heat up as she stared into Darcy’s eyes.
At Pemberley, they had spoken about Darcy’s long-standing attraction to Elizabeth, despite his rude words about her being merely tolerable.
He had never before admitted to losing sleep over her.
“You knew that already, did you not?” he asked.
He led her through the door, which he closed behind them.
They were obviously in his study. There was a massive desk with one chair on one side and several chairs on the other, and shelves full of books covered the walls.
He guided her to a seating arrangement in front of the fireplace.
He took her candlestick and placed it carefully on the table next to his.
Then he took both of Elizabeth’s hands and drew her into his arms.
Elizabeth’s body lit up at his touch. She gladly leant upon his chest, hearing the comfort of his steadily beating heart. “I did not know that you were having trouble sleeping. I do not believe you ever told me,” she said after several moments had passed.
Darcy pulled her gently away so he could kiss her nose and then drew her back to him so her head was tucked under his chin.
He said, “When I spoke of my efforts to repress my feelings because of the absurd things that had been taught to me all my life about marrying for wealth and position, rather than affection, I remember using the word torment.”
“Oh! Yes, I remember you used that word.”
“You do not suppose that a man can be tormented by thoughts of a woman all day long and then just lay down in his bed and happily fall asleep for eight solid hours…do you?”
She shook her head, blushed some more, and then made herself laugh off her embarrassment. “I suppose it was all part of my elaborate plot to weaken you gradually and inexorably, because you had the nerve not to think me handsome enough to tempt you.”
“You now know very well that the ‘not handsome enough’ bit was a dastardly lie,” Darcy answered, bending down to press a kiss to her forehead.
“It turns out, although I never knew it until I saw you at the assembly, that I find curly dark hair with coppery and golden highlights to be the most beautiful and tempting of all hair, and I find that dark eyes sparkling with radiant lines of amber and green to be the most beautiful and tempting of all eyes. Not only that, I find that a light and pleasing figure that fits perfectly just under my chin is the most beautiful and tempting of all figures. Who could ever have known that all of that loveliness, when accompanied by a great intellect, a teasing smile, and an impertinent manner, would be able to tempt me to all manner of improper thoughts?”
Elizabeth stepped away from him. “Darcy!” she exclaimed. He was always so—he had always behaved so—he was so consistently proper….
She did not know if him having improper thoughts about her pleased or displeased her. But she very much hoped she had not hurt his feelings just then. Darcy was backlit, and she could not see his face. She could not look into his eyes—and she desperately needed to, just then.
Taking up her candle, she held it aloft, and saw that his eyes were dancing with…laughter?
“Are you teasing me?” she whispered.
He took her candle away again, but this time he walked to another table and placed it so that it shone on them from another angle.
He took her again in his arms and explained, “I am speaking honestly, so no, I am not teasing you. However, I cannot deny that I was delighted with your shock over my words. I am not sad that your innocence has protected you from the realisation that a man who ardently admires and loves you, a man who experiences torment as he contemplates overthrowing his own, his family’s, and his friends’ expectations for his love for you—that such a man will have improper thoughts about you.
But let me remind you that, a week from now, those thoughts will be entirely proper. ”
“I suppose…that is true.” Elizabeth felt incapable of knowing what to say—or feel—or do.
Then she remembered the moment she saw him riding towards her—they had flown into each other’s arms and kissed and kissed and kissed on a public road.
That had not been all that was proper, but with the emotions of the past few days, it had felt necessary.
She stepped closer to Darcy again, but before he could embrace her again, she took his hands. Bringing them both up to her lips, she kissed one hand, then the other. His breath caught, and he seemed to cease breathing as she kissed each of his large, strong hands several more times.
Finally, a deep sigh escaped him, and she was glad to know he had not forgotten how to breathe.
“I love you so, Elizabeth.”
“I love you, too, Darcy.”
After a rather timeless interval, of standing together in the candle-lit study, Darcy escorted her upstairs and to her guest chamber. He bowed, turned, and determinedly walked towards the family wing.
She was grateful that he had not tried for additional “improper” liberties—which would, mere days from then, be entirely proper and even encouraged. The difference of a few days seemed quite nonsensical at this moment, but Elizabeth still wished not to push at that social barrier.