Mr. Darcy's Forbidden Love

Home > Other > Mr. Darcy's Forbidden Love > Page 75
Mr. Darcy's Forbidden Love Page 75

by Brenda Webb


  “Is he not the most beautiful baby?” she whispered looking down at the child as she spoke. “Aunt Audrey and Aunt Evelyn both say he is the most beautiful baby they have ever seen, and I imagine they have seen plenty of babies in their time.”

  William’s lips twitched as he tried not to smile. “Yes, he is very handsome.” He began to take off his coat and unloosen his cravat. “Now that he is asleep, do you want me to summon Mrs. Curry to take him back to the nursery?”

  “No, I told her he will sleep in the cradle tonight,” she answered, motioning to the item by her side of the bed. “With our guests here, I missed seeing him today as often as I normally do.”

  In only a few minutes, William had undressed and retrieved one of the night shirts that he kept in the closet. Pulling it over his head, he joined his wife in the bed, each lying on their sides facing a sleeping son.

  “Do you know what I fear most?” Elizabeth offered, her face becoming solemn as she ran a finger down Alex’s soft arm.

  William reached for her hand and kissed it. “Tell me.”

  “Being so busy living that I fail to take the time to enjoy my family—you and Alexander. My home was not the safe haven I want for our children and from what little you have said, I fear yours was not either.”

  “No. Though I felt my mother’s love, our home was in turmoil most of the time.”

  “Precisely. I felt my father’s love, but my home was equally chaotic. And while I know what duties are expected of me as the mistress of Pemberley, I do not wish to leave my children for others to nurture. It is my opinion that if one fails in raising their own children, anything else they may accomplish is for naught.”

  William leaned over to kiss her, replying, “Though I knew that you would make a good mother, darling, I had no way of knowing how wise you were for one so young. Your thoughts reflect my own, as I wish to enjoy our children. After all, they will be our legacy, not this estate.”

  “Oh Fitzwilliam! You are exactly the man I prayed for when I asked God for a husband. He could not have formed you more perfectly.”

  William could not suppress a wide smile. “We are blessed to have found one another.”

  “So very blessed.”

  In a few minutes, Alexander was sleeping soundly in his cradle while Elizabeth lay enclosed in her husband’s arms.

  “I cannot imagine marriage being anything other than this. How do people live without love and respect?”

  “They do not live, Elizabeth, they exist. It was only after I met you that I had the courage to reach for more. Thank you for showing me the way.”

  Elizabeth propped upon his chest. “Thank you for loving me and giving me Alexander.”

  Instantly she was drawn into a fierce kiss. “I shall love you eternally, Elizabeth Darcy. Record that in your journal just as truly as it is written upon my heart.”

  And they made love as gently as two people madly in love could manage.

  ~~~*~~~

  Epilogue

  It was indisputable that the union of Fitzwilliam George Darcy and Elizabeth Rose Darcy was richly blessed by all standards. That was not to say that they did not have their share of heartaches and sadness over the years, but the joys always outnumbered the sorrows.

  Their lives were, as one might expect, entwined with those of their relations. The Bingleys, the Landinghams and the Earl and Countess of Matlock all saw one another frequently, as they resided near one another in Derbyshire. And although Richard Fitzwilliam and his family lived at Rosings in Kent, they spent copious amounts of time visiting their relations in the north.

  The number of lockets that William purchased when their first child was born proved to be prophetic, for the Darcys used the entire collection with the six children that God entrusted to their care. Their firstborn, Alexander, had been the perfect child to carry the mantel of heir. Instinctively aware of his duties and responsibility at a young age, he was also blessed with his mother’s lively personality, thus he did not fall into the melancholy that had so often plagued his father before he married.

  An expert horseman like his father, Alexander’s interests lay in the study of animal husbandry. In later years, his expertise would result in the stables at Pemberley becoming renown throughout England, Wales, Scotland and Ireland for their superior stock. Even His Majesty’s stables featured stallions and mares gleaned from Pemberley, and the Darcys acquired a standing contract with the army to produce animals for their officers.

  Two years after Alexander was born, they were blessed with a daughter they named Audrey Anne in honour of William’s beloved mother and aunt. The image of her mother, Anne, as she was called, was completely spoiled by her father. Very inquisitive and bright like Elizabeth, she would become quite an academic. Her interests tended towards botany and the science involved in improving the soil in order to improve the yield of the crops. The vast knowledge she acquired through studying the latest techniques of crop rotation and soil enrichment proved her a valuable ally to the tenants, who depended on the land to feed their families and to her father and older brother, who relied on her knowledge of the subjects.

  Almost three years later another son, Thomas Edward Fitzwilliam Darcy was born. Thomas’ name honoured Elizabeth’s father and William’s uncle, the earl. With a temperament that was quiet and reflective, he was the one in the family who listened to every side of an argument before opening his mouth, and the person to whom his siblings would turn when they needed an unbiased opinion. In later years, because of his interests in science, he would become a respected chemist as a direct result of the influence of Michael Faraday, 33 a chemist he met at a lecture at the Royal Institution in London.

  Barely a year after Thomas’ birth, the Darcys welcomed another daughter, Evelyn Jane, named after William’s aunt and Elizabeth’s sister. She was the most like her brother, Thomas, in temperament, and though known to the family as Eve, her mother often teased her by calling her Jane because of her tendency to see the good in every situation. Moreover, she resembled her aunt, her hair being only a shade darker. Nonetheless, the sky blue eyes of her father proved her a Darcy, and her interests in books proved that she was her mother’s daughter. Inspired by her mother’s journals, she became an accomplished writer of novels before she was thirty.

  During the year of 1821, Elizabeth experienced a miscarriage, losing a baby boy in the sixth month. Though she and William were deeply saddened, they had only to consider the children God had given them to realise that they should not despair. Vowing not to allow this tragedy to defeat them, it served only to force them closer as a couple and as a family.

  It would be four years before another Darcy would join the family. This time it was another daughter, Claire Elizabeth. Claire was a miniature of her sister, Anne, who was now a young lady of eight. Anne, feeling sufficiently grown, took the nurturing of her younger siblings seriously, especially since her mother was busy with the baby. Under the governess’ supervision, she became quite adept at helping to instruct the younger Darcys, either by reading to them or helping with their numbers and letters. So dedicated was she, that her parents often insisted that she go riding with her father or pursue her own music and art, otherwise she would have been perfectly agreeable to spend all her time with her brother and sisters.

  After several years, the Darcys began to believe that God had no more children in mind for them, but He indeed had other plans. The year that Elizabeth was eight and thirty, she learned that she was again with child. William was ecstatic upon hearing the news, but she secretly worried that she might not be able to carry the child to term. But God was faithful and Sophia Rose was born on the 24th of December, 1831, a perfectly healthy girl and a wonderful Christmas present. She would provide much joy for the family, living at home far past the age when her older brothers and sisters had married and moved away.

  In fact, Rose did not marry until she was five and twenty, though she had her share of admirers. She was quite handsome, having her father’
s black hair and her mother’s dark chocolate eyes. Taller than her sisters, a trait she inherited from her father as well, she was a fearless horsewoman and enjoyed competing against any who dared to challenge her. For years, only her father could keep up with her as she raced across the pastures, jumping fences and creeks one after the other.

  ~~~*~~~

  And so it was that the Darcy children lived a fairytale existence, anchored by a father and mother determined that they would know that they were cherished. And though they never had much contact with the Bennets other than with their grandfather, who lived long enough to see their third child enter the world, and Aunt Jane, they were not without a great number of relations who loved them and with whom they shared their lives.

  Georgiana Darcy was barely two and twenty when she married the handsome Earl of Cheltham, Arthur Findley, who was eight and twenty. She and her husband resided in the county of Cheshire, their home being approximately thirty miles from Pemberley. They had two sons, Arthur Darcy and Roland Harold, though Georgiana also became the mother of Findley’s two daughters when they married— Mary, aged two, and Melanie, aged four. Their mother had passed away the year before Findley met Georgiana and both little girls became extremely close to their new mother, who treated them as her very own.

  Charles and Jane Bingley had three children, all girls—Charlene Jane, Rebecca Elizabeth and Marjorie Kathleen— born within the space of six years. The oldest girls had bright red hair and dark blue eyes, the image of their father, while the youngest was a miniature of Jane.

  Richard and Colleen became the parents of four boys, the first being his namesake, Richard Edward. The second and third sons were identical twins—Joseph Martin and James Marshall. They were so similar that it was impossible for most of the family to tell one from the other and strangers were completely baffled. Colin Spencer was born two years after the twins.

  The birth of each successive son resulted in a ceaseless stream of teasing from the men of the family, as it was common knowledge that Richard wished for a daughter. And though content with his boys, nevertheless he added to the dilemma by teasing Colleen.

  “And what happened to the girl I ordered?” he would taunt whenever the family gathered to greet the newest addition to the family.

  Colleen always replied with a smile. “You are not in His Majesty’s service any longer. Surely you do not expect your orders to be carried out.”

  Nonetheless on their 15th wedding anniversary, Richard was rendered speechless by the birth of a beautiful red-haired daughter, Penelope Colleen.

  Thus, as the decades passed and the children matured, there was no end to the number of coaches travelling between the estates as one cousin or another decided to spend time with their personal favourite amongst the multitude of offspring.

  With the exception of Edgar and Frances Fitzwilliam, who kept to themselves in London, they were by and large a contented bunch. Years later, after the Matlock title had passed to Edgar, he and Frances died when influenza swept through Town. Thus, the title passed to Richard, along with the estate of Matlock.

  Not in good health, the Earl of Matlock expired before William and Lizzy’s fifth wedding anniversary and the Countess the following year. They were sorely missed, as they had chosen to live in Derbyshire in their final years. So it was that Lord and Lady Landingham, who were already considered grandparents by the Darcy children, stepped in to fill the void by becoming surrogate grandparents for all the children and were an influence on them all until most were grown.

  ~~~*~~~

  Over time, the small chapel at Pemberley was enlarged to accommodate the burgeoning Darcy family, and the vicar at Kympton began to hold services two Sundays per month. The new building witnessed many christenings, several funerals and a plethora of weddings during William and Elizabeth’s era, while the small stone bench under the oak in the cemetery became a haven just for the two of them. It became a tradition that on certain anniversaries, just as dawn was breaking, one would hurry to the spot only to discover that the other was already there.

  And that is exactly as it happened on Anne Darcy’s birthday in the year that William turned seventy. He was first to arrive and was already seated on the stone bench in anticipation of Elizabeth’s soon appearance. She had every intention of meeting him there, but seeing that he arrived first, she chose to do what she had begun years before—she stopped in the foggy mist to admire the man she had loved for the greater part of her life. It never failed to amaze her how her heart still burned with love at the slightest glimpse of Fitzwilliam, whether across a great distance or merely across the dinner table.

  When she spied him, his head was bowed in prayer, and for a second she was disappointed. Though his attractive silvery hair still caused her heart to beat faster, she longed to peer into the sky blue eyes that twinkled whenever he looked at her.

  He is just as handsome—no, more so—than the day I first met him in the bookstore!

  Suddenly William looked up, smiled and stretched his arms in her direction. Unable to hold back a grateful smile, she hurried to fill his embrace when he stood.

  “Why were you smiling so smugly?” she teased, running her hand along his cheek. “Were you surprised that I can still move so fast?”

  “Not at all! I was just mulling over how a man who had destroyed his future by assuming he could fix everything, found redemption and then was so fortunate as to marry the most amazing woman in England.”

  “Only in England?”

  The giggle that accompanied her question was so reminiscent of the pixie of the bookshop that William’s heart swelled with love and melancholy at the same time. Her hair was still just as unruly as ever, having escaped her combs even now, but it was now almost completely white. He smoothed one long tendril behind her ear and kissed the tip of her nose. “In truth, you are the most amazing woman I have ever known.”

  Elizabeth laid her head back on his chest. His arms enclosed her tighter, and she sighed. “Do you have any regrets, darling?”

  “Only that I did not wait for God’s deliverance instead of marrying in haste to hush a scandal. If I had, I would have been free to offer for you when we met. I knew the moment you came around that bookshelf that you were the one God meant for me.”

  He felt her nodding. “I knew too.” When she looked up at him, her eyes were shiny with tears. “I shall love you for all eternity, Fitzwilliam George Darcy.”

  His voice was rough as he whispered a reply. “And I shall love you for all eternity, Elizabeth Rose Darcy.”

  The dawn found them sitting, hand in hand, watching the sun rise over their beloved Pemberley.

  Finis

  Footnotes

  1 A Selection of Irish Melodies, 4 (November 1811) Thomas Moore, Irish Poet, singer, songwriter and entertainer. (May 1779 – February 1852) Back to the Story

  2 Believe Me, if All Those Endearing Young Charms is a popular folksong of early 19th century Ireland and America. Irish poet Thomas Moore wrote the words to a traditional Irish air in 1808. The last verse is as follows: Back to the Story

  That the fervour and faith of a soul can be known,

  To which time will but make thee more dear.

  Oh, the heart that has truly loved never forgets,

  But as truly loves on to the close:

  As the sunflower turns on her God when he sets

  The same look that she gave when he rose.

  3 Vauxhall Gardens was the oldest of London’s pleasure gardens. Its twelve acres, containing shrubbery, walks, statues and cascades, were located in Lambeth, south of the Thames from Westminster Abbey. (The Regency Encyclopedia) Back to the Story

  4 Piquet is a game virtually unchanged since the 16th century and is played by two people using thirty-two cards. The “piquet pack” is made by discarding all cards below the sevens from a full pack. The game takes about a half-hour to play and takes considerable concentration and skill. The Cambridge Edition of Sense and Sensibility. Cambridge University
Press (2006). According to the Regency Encyclopedia. Back to the Story

  5 Maria Edgeworth (1 January 1767 – 22 May 1849) was a prolific Anglo-Irish writer of adults' and children's literature. She held advanced views, for a woman of her time, on estate management, politics and education, and corresponded with some of the leading literary and economic writers, including Sir Walter Scott and David Ricardo. Back to the Story

  6 John Weston’s, a tailor at 34 Old Bond Street, London, who made waistcoats, breeches and shirts and was a favourite of Beau Brummell, the prince and Lord Byron. (The Regency Encyclopedia) Back to the Story

  7 Vauxhall Gardens was the oldest of London’s pleasure gardens. Its twelve acres, containing shrubbery, walks, statues and cascades, were located in Lambeth, south of the Thames from Westminster Abbey. (The Regency Encyclopedia) Back to the Story

  8 Hatchards Bookstore (The Regency Encyclopedia). They are still in business, and this is what they have on their website. “Hatchards, booksellers since 1797, is the oldest surviving bookshop in London. Our customers have included some of Britain's greatest political, social and literary figures - from Queen Charlotte, Disraeli and Wellington to Kipling, Wilde and Lord Byron -and our staff has always had a reputation for knowledgeable and professional service.” Back to the Story

  9 Angelo’s Haymarket Room – A fencing academy run by Henry Angelo and then his sons. In 1770, the salle d’armes was at Carlisle House, overlooking Soho-square; then was moved to Opera House-buildings in Haymarket, next to Old Bond Street. The Regency Encyclopedia and www.georgianindex.net Back to the Story

  10 Namby Pamby is a term for affected, weak, and maudlin speech/verse. However, its origins are in Namby Pamby (1725), by Henry Carey. Carey wrote the poem as a satire of Ambrose Philips and published it in his Poems on Several Occasions. Source: Wikipedia.

 

‹ Prev