One Love - Two Hearts - Three Stories

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One Love - Two Hearts - Three Stories Page 5

by J Dawn King


  “Yes, William, I will write to Father.” It was with regret that she glanced out the window to note that shadows were deepening where there had last been bright sunlight. It was time for her to return to her sister. After all, that was why she was at Netherfield Park. Her voice was quiet as she stared at her hands twisted into fists on her lap. “I … I need to see to Jane, William.”

  It was the death knell. The end of this beautiful period had approached. Desperation filled Darcy as he stood and paced in front of the dying fire. He turned and looked at her as she sat on the settee. He suddenly became aware of the pendulum’s movement as it ticked the seconds passing. She was bewitching. The same curl that had escaped the confines of her hairpins continued to rest against her neck. He still longed to run his hands through that curtain of hair that he was somehow certain hung past her waist.

  Her small foot still tapped the floor in a rhythm all her own. It drew him in and he thought his heartbeat was now moving in a syncopated rhythm like the metronome his sister used when she practiced the pianoforte. Her hands were small. He had lovingly held those hands and only moments ago they had caressed the sides of his face as he had pulled her closer to him.

  Her small frame had fit perfectly with his larger, manly one. He knew that if she were standing in front of him, he could easily rest his cheek on the top of that pile of curls. How soothing that would be to him; like balm to his soul.

  He walked until he stood directly in front of her. She rose from the settee. Looking up at him, she could see his intense stare that she had earlier incorrectly interpreted as finding fault. Now, she could see strong emotions swirling in his magnificent dark eyes. They drew her even closer until her breath caught.

  “Before you go, Elizabeth, you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” If it was the last thing she would hear when she left this room, he wanted it to be this. He was completely certain of his feelings and knew that they would not change. If, by chance, she did not return his love, he would never marry another. Darcy would never allow another woman to take her place in his heart or in his home.

  “I do love you my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth. I vow before you and God in heaven that my love for you will only grow stronger with each day that passes, with each breath I take. I vow to care for you and for any family that we might have. I vow to protect you and ours. I vow that my love will never stray. Truly, Elizabeth, there is no greater woman on this earth who is more perfect for me than you. I will…” His emotions were so intense that he had to stop and take a breath. “I will love you forever, Elizabeth. Only you … forever.”

  Elizabeth could not stop the tears from trailing down her cheeks. Never had she imagined that she would receive the kind of love that this man offered. In her childish dreams, her knight in shining armor would offer his love and protection with a rescue, a quick ‘I love you’, and a flower. Reality was so much better. Darcy had been tested by life’s uncertainties, so his words had weight. This was not some immature boy who was unqualified to take the lead in the family. He was a man— a gentleman. And, he was her gentleman.

  It took a moment for her to regain her composure.

  She was not aware that he saw what he thought was awe on her face. He observed no visible signs of turmoil or distaste and the relief he felt almost dropped him to his knees.

  “William… William, I am at a loss to tell you how much your words mean to me. They are precious and I will cherish them all of my days.” Elizabeth smiled through her tears. “I wish that you had the power to read what is in my heart. You are dear to me. Dearer than I could have imagined a man could be.” She reached her hand up and gently caressed his cheek. She felt him lean into her hand. His eyes glistened with moisture, yet none fell to his cheeks. “I vow… I vow to love you and to live with you as your wife for all of our days.” She gave a slight giggle. “I would vow to obey you in everything that you say; however, I do believe that I will struggle with this for my whole life.”

  He chuckled as well, already knowing that her independent, intelligent mind would seek to understand before she would act. Other men might balk at being with such a strong woman, but Darcy welcomed the challenge.

  “Elizabeth, you have just promised to love me all of our life. Do you mean it?” He knew that his honor demanded that he ask. “Are you certain that it is not the emotion of the moment that is swaying you to speak such words?

  “Oh, William, I do love you so.” She leaned up on her toes and brushed a kiss across his lips. Before he could pull her in tighter, she rocked back on her heels. “This is not the work of a moment. For, the truth is that you have always attracted my attention, for good or bad. I have not been able to remove you from my mind since the night we were introduced in Meryton. As you have watched me in public, I realize now that I have watched you as well. My heart is full, you dear man. I will marry no other than you.”

  The kiss was passionate and the embrace that followed was one of comfort and release. This time, they were uninterrupted by the footman and both were eternally grateful.

  “Come, Elizabeth, we must tend to our duties. You will write to your father and I will listen to Bingley as he makes arrangements for his sister.” He started laughing deeply.

  “William! Whatever are you about?”

  “If only Caroline Bingley knew the results of her interference today. It was not until I heard you defending me to Bingley for my actions against her that I truly hoped for this outcome. So, she has my gratitude, if nothing else.”

  “Certainly, William, she will have nothing else for you are mine and I am yours.”

  “I love you, my Elizabeth.”

  “And, I love you, my Will.”

  He dropped to one knee. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, holder of my heart, will you do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage?” He held his breath until she answered. They had made their vows and he believed her declaration of love. However, this one question begged an answer and would determine his fate.

  Elizabeth bent down and kissed him again. He had taken her hands in his and she squeezed them gently. “It would be my honor to be your wife. Yes, Mr. Darcy, I will marry you.”

  He jumped up, grabbed her around the waist, and spun her joyously around and around. Then there was silence as he lowered her feet to the floor and kissed her until it took her breath away.

  “Forever, Elizabeth.”

  “Forever, Will.”

  They walked hand-in-hand to the library door. With one last kiss and a quick embrace, they parted and left the room.

  The footman had heard and seen it all. He had observed Miss Elizabeth’s composure when under attack from Miss Bingley in the days prior to the visit to the library. And, he had also observed the kind guidance that Mr. Darcy gave Mr. Bingley. They would make a fine couple and have a happy future.

  With their exit from the room, the footman looked inside to make sure the embers in the fireplace were burned low. He backed out of the room and closed the library door, a small smile on his face.

  CHAPTER NINE – CELEBRATION

  Six months later – Pemberley library

  “William, do you recall where we were six months ago on this day?” Elizabeth was nestled next to him on the settee, gazing at her husband’s profile. The book on her lap lay completely ignored.

  “Mm-hum.” Darcy was distracted by the latest book of poems he had received by post just that morning. He wanted to find the perfect prose to memorize and recite to Elizabeth later in their chambers. Darcy knew how she delighted hearing the lovely words whispered in her ear. “Yes, dear.”

  Elizabeth chuckled at his distraction. They had been married four months and she delighted to watch the days pass at Pemberley. Her love for him had been entrusted to a man who treasured that emotion. He performed each task that came before him as if his own life were at stake. Thus, the tenants, neighboring landowners, and members of Darcy’s own household benefited. Elizabeth loved her new sister, Georgiana. She hoped to sh
are a secret with her in the morning. First, she needed the attention of her husband so he would be the first to find out.

  “Will,” she whispered. That got his immediate attention.

  “Yes, love.” He closed the book, keeping his long index finger inside to mark his place. “I apologize for being distracted. How may I be of service?”

  He loved his Elizabeth to distraction. Each day he was happier than the last that she was his wife.

  “Do you recall where we were six months ago today?” She repeated.

  “I do. I gave my most excellent proposal to you in Bingley’s library and you were pleased to accept.” He grasped her hand in his and kissed the back of it, a smile in his eyes.

  “Well, dear William, I would like to share with you a glimpse into the future.”

  “Really?” Darcy was skeptical. We wondered just what his wife was up to.

  “Yes. For in about six more months, I believe we will have a little Darcy join us in the library, distracting us with his or her amazing Darcy presence.”

  It took but a moment before the meaning behind her words became clear. Darcy carefully took her into his arms and embraced her tightly. He would be a father. Could my joy be more complete?

  Nothing could dim the smile of the husband and wife. And, nothing could dim the smile of the footman standing outside the door, the same smile he had worn six months earlier while standing outside the library at Netherfield Park.

  EPILOGUE - CHILDHOOD

  Six years later – Pemberley

  Mrs. Miller, the heir’s nursemaid, had misplaced the young master yet again. He was not in the nursery with his younger brother, Michael. He was not in any of the family rooms. He had not joined his mother and baby sister, Emma, in his mother’s study. Nor was he to be found, as he often was, with his father. Master Alexander James Darcy, the five-year-old son of Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy, looked like a miniature version of his father. However, the twinkle in his eye and his thirst for adventure was inherited directly from his mother. It was a mixture that caused constant consternation to his nurse.

  Standing at the top of the stairs, hands on her wide hips, hair slightly loose around her rosy cheeks, she blew a strand of graying hair away from where it was tickling her right cheek. There was only one course of action. She needed to join forces with John, the lower hall footman who faithfully guarded the doorway to the library and the master’s study. Of all of the Pemberley staff, John seemed to best understand the machinations of young Master Alex.

  Mrs. Miller took in a deep breath and released it quickly as she descended the stairway. It was a relief to see that Alex was not perched on the banister ready to slide down to the bottom to see how far he could launch himself across the foyer’s marble floor. As she made a turn at the end of the hallway, she observed John at his post.

  He was a tall, slim man with sandy blonde hair and soft, kind blue eyes. It was a matter of pride that he showed no expression other than calm on his handsome face. Nevertheless, he shared a love for young Alex that was fierce. If anyone on the lower floor knew where Master Alex was, it was the footman.

  It had only been a few minutes prior to the nursemaid’s appearance that the young Master had arrived. He had held a wooden sword in his right hand and a short red string in his left. A blanket had been tied carelessly around his small shoulders and a hat was perched on top of his dark curls.

  “Mr. John,” Alex had whispered, shifting his eyes back and forth as if he was wary of anything or anyone that might interrupt. As soon as the footman bowed to him, his countenance stern, the boy continued. “Might I have your assistance, please?”

  “Master Alex, I am at your service.”

  “Oh Mr. John, I am not Master Alex.” He stepped back so the footman could get a clear view of his apparel and then lowered his voice to attempt to have the deep resonance of his father. “I am the Dread Pirate Darcy, the scourge of the seven seas.”

  The footman endeavored not to smile, though his left brow did lift — slightly. “I see, Pirate Darcy. Where be ye headed today, Captain Alexander? Do ye have a fair wind fer yer sails? Be ye after treasure?”

  “Not today, First Mate John Footman.” He gave a swoop of his sword and then pointed it to the ceiling. “We are after the Intrepid, the fastest sloop in the British Navy. On board is my pirate friend Bluebeard.” Alex lowered his voice and stepped closer, cupping the hand holding the sword around the right side of his mouth. John had leaned down to hear the young boy, but rapidly stepped back to avoid the dull point of the blade.

  “What be yer heading, Captain Darcy?”

  “Point her toward the sun, First Mate John, and heave to. We shall run them down and show those blue jackets what real fighting men are about.” Alex stepped back and gave his sword another swish. “I am off to my quarters to plot our course.” With that he ran into the library.

  The footman enjoyed his life at Pemberley. There was peace in the family and noise in the halls with the two sons. The second son, Michael, was a smaller version of young Alex, but had the quiet intensity of the Master. The baby was but a few months old.

  Time had passed and the events of life came and went. His services had been varied. It had been he who had found the housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, when Mrs. Darcy’s pains had started with all three of her children. Each time had found Mrs. Darcy in the library, her favorite room in the house. It had been he who had kept silent company as the Master paced back and forth in that same room, waiting for news that his wife and child were well. It had been he who had picked up the young master and dusted off his behind as he tried to run before he could walk the lower halls. And, it had been he who had become the faithful companion to Alex when he was the Dread Pirate Darcy, a knight of the round table, a general in the army like his Uncle Richard Fitzwilliam, or the future Master of Pemberley.

  John looked up to see Mrs. Miller and knew what she was after. It was a pattern that repeated itself almost daily. With a slight nod of his head he tilted it toward the open library door.

  As she walked by him, she quietly inquired. “And who might Master Alex be today?”

  “Pirate.” He whispered almost without moving his mouth, so still and erect did he stand. It was not until she had entered the room and the hallway was empty that the first hint of a smile could be found. Reflection was good for the soul, he thought. When he heard the Dread Pirate Darcy squeal, he could no longer contain his smile.

  Peaking around the doorway into the room he saw Mrs. Miller backed against the wall, feigning fright and terror. Captain Darcy was holding her at sword point, ready to tie her with his red rope. He had caught his prey. Bluebeard would be free to roam the seven seas with Pirate Darcy. And life at Pemberley was safe for another day.

  The End!

  Married!

  by

  J. Dawn King

  A Pride & Prejudice Collection

  Acknowledgements

  My sincerest appreciation for those who read through this with a fine-tooth comb, looking for all the misplaced commas, “that’s” and “who’s”. Angela “Anji” Dale and Jennifer Joy Ramirez are my heroes.

  For the visitors on the three forums I posted this story on – all 200,000+ viewers in 116 countries – I thank you. There were over 1,000 reviews left that made me smile like a fool. Thank you from the bottom to the top of my heart for your input. Priceless!!!

  Dedication

  This book is affectionately dedicated to my daughter, Jennifer Joy.

  CHAPTER ONE

  On the road heading north from London –

  Elizabeth Bennet glanced at the man seated across from her in the steadily moving carriage. The look he focused on the young lady seated next to her was stern and unyielding. Occasionally he would lean towards the girl and whisper fierce words that Elizabeth struggled to ignore. The young lady cowered each time the man finally sat back in his seat. The woman on the other side of the girl— Elizabeth assumed she was the companion— apparently shared in t
he gentleman’s opinion of the events that brought the three of them into the stagecoach. The woman’s countenance welcomed the flirtatious attention of the man and she looked at the girl with disdain. It was two against one and Elizabeth chafed at the odds.

  Elizabeth had wanted to instigate conversation with the young lady as it was apparent that she needed a friend, badly. However, Elizabeth could not know the circumstances that brought the trio together. At first, she did not know if the man was an elder brother, cousin, or guardian and she did not want to attempt to guess at the relationship between the man and the companion. So, Elizabeth remained silent.

  The quality of clothing the young lady was wore was of the finest rich fabrics and current design. Her bonnet and pelisse were similar to the ones Elizabeth had observed while window shopping on Bond Street with her Aunt Gardiner. The prices in those shops were too dear for a country gentleman’s daughter; yet someone had cared enough about this girl to clothe her well. The only discordant note in her attire was her reticule. It was a plain brown cotton with a blue and white striped lining; almost an exact replica of Elizabeth’s. Elizabeth wondered why a lady with such fine apparel would carry a bag so inferior to the rest of her garments. It was a puzzle.

  Upon observation, she realized that the gentleman was not as finely dressed, which hinted to Elizabeth that he was either unrelated or a relative of a lower social standing. He had a pleasing face and his manners at first had been all that a gentleman’s should be. It had only taken one exchange between the man and the girl for Elizabeth to realize that all was not right. The man had lost all of his charm.

  Two hours after they left the London coaching inn, the coachman stopped for a chance to rest the horses and partake of the limited amount of offerings the kitchen at the next inn provided to weary travelers. It was early afternoon and the taproom was crowded. The July sun had been intense and the road dust thick. Elizabeth felt as if she could taste the grit that had wafted through the opened windows for weeks.

 

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