The Very Essence of Love

by Andreea Catana

  Elizabeth and Darcy were the last ones to follow the walkers. Their pace was their own and they had plenty of things to say to one another. With the familiarity now between them, Elizabeth confessed her fear that he might have changed his mind since talking to her father the previous day.

  “It could never happen. I have lost too much time already being apart from you, Lizzy! Have you changed yours?”

  She protested vehemently against such an idea. “I believe I have been foolish enough already. repeating the same mistake is not a fault I wish to add to my character. I have plenty of faults already.” She laughed as she tightened her grasp on Darcy’s arm.

  “You would not have married me when I proposed to you the first time, am I right?”

  Elizabeth blushed, humbled by the remembrance of Rosings Park. “No, I would not have,” she said in earnest. “You did not know me and I did not know you either. We were figments of each other’s imagination. But I do know you now, and I take you for you, Mr. Darcy. I would take you no matter what.”

  As she spoke this, her cheeks were crimson; her boldness has urged her to declare to Darcy her own passionate feelings for him.

  He appeared to enjoy it, and rewarded Elizabeth by saying, “I believe that you are perfect as you are. Almost.”

  “Almost? And pray,” she said in a jest, “what should I change to make myself fully perfect?”

  “To tease me, love me, make me lose my wits. Always.”

  Elizabeth sighed, content. “That will be easy, Fitzwilliam! I am bound to tease you till we are old and grey. About the loving part, I shall love you even longer than that.”

  With these words, Darcy turned to Elizabeth to see the determination in her face. He had heard it in her smooth voice, now he wished to see it also in her eyes. And there it was, like a promise of love never-ending. Under his gaze, Elizabeth focused all her strength on a struggle to conceal how much she wished he would kiss her. She closed her eyes gently, as he put his arms around her waist, lifting her slowly to him.

  This time the kiss was even more deep, as their knowledge of each other increased. His mouth took possession of hers with intensity and she allowed it, enjoying it fully. They both struggled to breathe once the kiss was over and she shivered, thinking of how often they would be doing this once they were husband and wife. To know that she would be resting in his arms for the rest of her life seemed a blessing she had no name for.

  She knew she was utterly in love with him, and as he kissed her again, she thought with excitement of the promise of the life they were destined to have together.

  Epilogue

  Elizabeth looked upon Pemberley with fondness as she headed towards the main entrance. She knew that inside were all the things that had given her bliss for the last few months.

  Her husband and her home.

  Elizabeth grasped the small flower bouquet in her hand and headed towards their apartment, where Fitzwilliam was still asleep. He had returned late from London the other night, surprising her. She remembered how she had laughed on seeing him, how his lips spoke just a few words before they covered her mouth, how his fingers unbuttoned her gown, exposing her skin to his touch. Fitzwilliam, as Elizabeth had learned since her marriage, was a passionate man, who stirred in her emotions she never knew existed. Each time he left her to attend his business was agony, each return a blessing.

  Elizabeth entered the chamber quietly, leaving the flowers on the small table, and paused to watch Fitzwilliam sleep. On their bed, where he had carried her on their first night together.

  Elizabeth thought she had known him before, but the reality of the man she had married was beyond any expectations she might have had previously. As a master, he was keen to know everyone’s troubles and alleviate them whenever he could. As a brother he was loving. Miss Darcy and she were friends, sisters, and Elizabeth did all in her power to make her happy, not only because of the real affection she had for the young girl, but also because it made her husband content.

  The happiest of times were when Jane and Mr. Bingley would arrive at Pemberley to spend a few weeks with them. The house became filled with lively music, games and interesting conversations. Miss Darcy continued her excellent friendship with Jane and was often invited to the Bingleys’ home as well. Elizabeth was glad to see how much Darcy’s sister had changed since she and Darcy wed; she was now a confident and curious young lady, reminding Elizabeth very much of herself. Fitzwilliam thought it to be the greatest compliment to her, for there was no one she loved more than his wife. Elizabeth also found comfort in her husband’s appreciation of her father, who was another frequent visitor to Pemberley. Her father brought her news of life in Meryton and she found with amazement how little things had changed.

  But since not all things can be happy all the time, Elizabeth knew that her life came with some sorrow as well. Lady Catherine disapproved heartily of her nephew’s marriage, announcing in a letter that Elizabeth would not be received at Rosings Park again. Elizabeth had even received a letter from Mr. Collins before her wedding, in which he had begged her to reconsider her decision. Elizabeth sent him a calm reply in which she announced that she would do no such thing and it was the last time she heard direct news of Mr. or Mrs. Collins.

  She was displeased about this occurrence, as Charlotte had been a good friend, but suffered more from Darcy’s lack of communication with his aunt. Georgiana proved to have the solution and together they conceived a plan to reunite the two. Georgiana, who was still in her aunt’s favours, acted as his emissary, without Darcy’s knowledge, until Lady Catherine accepted seeing Fitzwilliam again.

  Elizabeth approached her husband and sat near the edge of the bed, tracing his features with her fingers. It must have been her movements that woke him up for he opened his eyes almost instantly. He smiled at Elizabeth and brushed her face with his hand. Fitzwilliam pulled his wife towards him and she lay next to him, face-to-face, just like they did each night.

  “I never meant to wake you, my love!” she whispered as he placed a kiss on her nose.

  “You should have, for you know, the sooner my day starts with you the better.”

  THE END