Chapter 20 #3
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.