Chapter 11 #3
“We have been in our chambers for seven days and not seen anyone. I love all of you and your face cream will never change that. Apply it when you believe you are somewhere your birthmark might make you uncomfortable.”
“Now that I have my own jar, I thought the same thing.”
“Where were we before you asked me that question? Ah, yes, I remember. . . ” She was quickly in her husband’s arms and they resumed their kisses.
Over the following weeks, the happy couple spent every moment together and saw no one other than the cottage servants and Mr. Bethel. She and Fitzwilliam took long walks in the gardens and enjoyed the warm weather.
They were both delighted by how well the charred plants were beginning to grow back—in particular, Elizabeth’s attention to the rose garden had been well worthwhile. She could never have dreamt that trimming the burnt plants would lead to her current happiness.
Fitzwilliam pointed to the manor house. “The walls have been restored and the roof repair is finished—that area is where the first rooms we shall occupy are located. The family wing is now secure and the rooms are beginning to take shape.
Construction noises greeted Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam as they entered Pemberley. She was delighted the rebuilding was going so well.
“I wish to show you what is left of the library. It was not safe to do so until now.”
When her husband opened the double doors, she gasped at the size of the enormous room.
She spun around—the vision was overwhelming!
Large windows all across the back wall illuminated the beautiful hand carved bookcases, which were two storeys high and filled with thousands of books, most of them burnt or charred.
The remains of sofas, chairs and tables were scattered in clusters around the room.
Near the back wall, she could make out what was left of a small writing desk.
She was awestruck at the scale and substance, even with the devastation!
“I can tell it was nothing short of magnificent. I am certain you spent many hours here exploring the world through your books.”
“Yes. I was an only child for a long time and spent many hours on my own in here. My father had those rolling ladders installed so I had access to everything. The library was often my refuge when the weight of being master got to be too much.”
“I too spent many a cold winter’s day sitting before the fire in my father’s study at Longbourn with a book in my hands.”
“Look over there: can you see the remains of a large mound of books?”
“Yes, but why would anyone leave that many books so haphazardly piled near the door?”
“An excellent question from my perceptive bride. Do you remember when I told you the constable came here to investigate the fire? This is where he found the evidence that the fire was intentionally started in the library, and that it was not an accident. Books were also set ablaze next to the draperies in the drawing room, and there may have been other fires started elsewhere in the house, but many areas are still unsafe to inspect.”
She shook her head. The evil was unfathomable! “I still cannot believe it! If someone was desperate enough, I might understand them stealing jewellery or money to survive. But why would Wickham wish to destroy this beautiful house and hurt you and Georgiana?”
“Vengeance, my love, nothing more than his depraved desire for revenge. During his other ill-treatments of the Darcy good will, part of his intention was to harm me but, in the end, all he really cared about was the money. When he attempted to seduce my sister in Ramsgate, his only goal was to get his hands on Georgie’s dowry.
He knew if she married him, she would be condemned to a life of misery as well as bringing shame and scandal to the Darcy family.
This time, his goal was the money and to cause us to suffer. ”
“He nearly killed you and destroyed your ancestral home, but I am comforted to know he can never harm our family again.”
“As am I, my love.”
On the way back to the cottage, they entered the path to the garden. Fitzwilliam suddenly held her arms and pressed her against one of the brick columns. They were kissing quite passionately when Elizabeth gently pushed him away. “My love, someone will see us. Let us return to our chambers.”
Again, he kissed her deeply until he withdrew and rested his forehead against hers.
“If you only knew what you do to me. Forgive me but I cannot get enough of you. Perhaps my heart was closed off for so long now that it is open, I need you more than I ever imagined needing anyone. Come, let us make haste. My heart needs to feel your love.”
She raised one eyebrow. “Your heart?” Of course, she did not mind the passion. The closeness it brought to her new husband was beyond her wildest imagination.
* * *
Most days, while Fitzwilliam worked at his desk, Elizabeth kept him company and sat nearby, either reading or sewing. The situation was comforting. They looked up every now and then and smiled at the certainty of their shared love.
One afternoon, Elizabeth entered the cottage library and found her husband sitting at his desk studying the building plans for the manor house.
She leaned forward from the other side, intentionally exposing more of her bosom than usual.
He looked up and smiled. “Mrs. Darcy, are you trying to distract me?” Was he baiting her?
“That was not my initial intention, but one cannot control how others will respond to someone else’s actions.” She was not one to flirt but could not help the coquettish tone of her voice. After all, the idea was to get his attention.
He walked around his desk and pulled her to him, kissing her possessively. “I would like to continue this lovely interlude, but in about two minutes, Bethel will walk through that door.”
She pretended to pout. “Very well. I shall leave you, but only because I refuse to do anything to prolong the rebuilding.” As she left the room, she smiled knowing she would cherish her husband’s kisses for the rest of her life.
* * *
“I received a note from Mrs. Hopkins today. She asked if she and Mrs. Murray may visit us.”
“Of course! I shall be glad to spend more time with the woman who was instrumental in bringing us together. I am eternally grateful to her. Had she not offered to take you in, we might never have met. Your experience with Mrs. Murray facilitated my ability to walk without a cane. Whenever they wish to visit, I shall send a carriage to transport them.”
Several days later
The ladies from Lambton had come for tea and were comfortably seated in the drawing room with Elizabeth and her husband.
“When I was first hired to work here,” Elizabeth said, “you asked me to tell you if the stories about the cottage being enchanted were true. Until the night of our wedding, there was nothing to tell you.”
Mrs. Murray turned to Fitzwilliam. “Mr. Darcy, as I have already told your wife, both of us grew up in the village and we have heard stories about the enchantment of Pembrook Cottage since we were girls. I am pleased to see how well Mrs. Darcy helped you learn to walk as she did me.”
“Do you see us any differently than you did at our wedding?”
Mrs. Hopkins answered. “Mrs. Murray and I spoke about the way you behaved towards each other at the celebratory breakfast, and we were concerned for you both. We wanted to visit in hopes your relationship had improved since your wedding. If not, we planned to offer to help you in any way possible. That day, you did not appear to be pleased about your marriage; however, I can see that is all changed. Your love for each other is obvious, so I could not be more delighted. Evidently the stories about how special the cottage is are true.”
Mrs. Murray added, “I always told Mrs. Darcy that one day she would find a good man who was clever enough to overlook her birthmark.”
“Indeed, you were correct. I am married to the best of men.”
“My wife endeared herself to me when I was fortunate enough to be the recipient of her daily care and kindness while she taught me how to strengthen my leg.”
“I am also grateful to your wife for everything she did for me—she truly changed my life for the better. You will be glad to know I dismissed Betsy Richards last month, and she has gone to live with her family in Cornwall permanently.”
“I must share my good news with you. My daughter Amelia and her children are returning to Lambton,” said Mrs. Hopkins.
“I am delighted for you. When do you expect them?”
“Any day now. I have everything ready and hope you will meet them soon. Sir, your wife can tell you all about my daughter, but now I believe it is time for us to leave and let you have some privacy. Today we can truly congratulate you and offer our continued best wishes to you both.”
“We thank you for your kind words, ladies. Allow me to accompany you to the carriage.” When Darcy returned, he said, “Mrs. Hopkins did not answer your question about our looking any differently—physically, I mean. I am pleased that it is obvious to everyone how much we love each other.”
“It is as Mrs. Reynolds told us; we look at each other through the eyes of love, while others do not.” They walked to the leaded glass windows.
“We have been so distracted we have forgotten, but it is time our names joined those of all the other enchanted lovers.”
“Yes, Fitzwilliam, I agree.”
He found the special tool and handed it to Elizabeth.
Honoured to be the one to be chosen for the task, she carefully etched their names and the year 1812.
He embraced her from behind and hugged her to his body.
“I worship and adore you. For all time, our love will be celebrated along with all the other lovers who came before us.”