Darcy Meets Elizabeth In Kentucky

by Glenna Mason

  “Time passed. And then you came around the curve of the stairwell—dirty boots, messy jeans, that inimitable bounce in your step. You saw me and the color rose in your cheeks with those zany curls going every which way and those incredible eyes—those crystal blue eyes, which switch to sapphire blue and then change to emerald green. I knew, Elizabeth, at that second that you belonged there—on my stairs, in my house, in my life and in my bed.”

  “Oh?”

  “I've never been in love before, but I recognized it—then and there.”

  “You were so serious and quiet. I thought I had lost any chance with you, and, Fitzwilliam, I did so want there to be that chance,” Elizabeth said.

  “My silence had nothing to do with you, my love, and your ramblings through my upstairs. It was the sudden realization of the magnitude of how much was possible and how much I now had to lose.

  “My mind was trying to stay engaged enough to answer you, but it was nonetheless swirling, ranging over all courses of action I might take to escape the trap I had laid for myself.

  “You see the theft was nothing in my life before you. I had no one to answer to or for. The men and the horses needed immediate funding, well beyond my means to provide. I could have sold the farm to get equivalent millions, but then they'd have had the money and no place to go. As it was, they had the place and little money.

  “But once I met you, I was desperate to go back. Elizabeth, I had to, or there was no way I could go forward, not with you, and suddenly life without you seemed a bleak and endless. I didn't solve my dilemma that night, but I did manage an hour or so later to re-enter the present so I could be with you again.”

  “Oh.”

  “When you were sitting next to me, holding Thackeray and Dickens, I wanted to wrap my arms around you.”

  “I wish you had.”

  “I couldn't do that, Elizabeth. I struggled that week with the solution. I had pretty much decided to throw myself on the mercy of my friends in Lancaster, the Harrises. I stole their prize stallion, you know. Give them the money and plead extenuating circumstances, hoping for a short stint in jail.

  “I didn't know if you could ever love me as a thief exposed, but I couldn't allow you to love me as a thief unexposed. I could never ask you to live that lie; it would have consumed our life and love.”

  She snuggled close to him, her bare chest resting against his.

  “When I got to your house Friday, I had decided to try the Harrises, perhaps on Sunday afternoon after church. However, when you showed me the Dickens given to you by Sir William, my plans altered. If he were that fond of you, I decided that he might be my best chance, if I could only get him to comprehend how much I loved you. Then when he called Saturday, I knew my path was set. I had to try Sir William and I did.”

  “I am so grateful to the fates that you chose Sir William and Tish.”

  “When I first arrived at Stantonfield, his butler announced me in the den to Tish and Sir William and your beautiful sister Kitty. I didn't wait five minutes past the introductions to return the money.

  “They were all astounded. What a great man Sir William is! He has given me a check for my foundation, which totals in excess of twenty million dollars. Tish is going to join forces with me, providing her farm, a property valued at more than ten million. Elizabeth, when that is added to my farm, also valued at about ten million, we are suddenly a wealthy foundation.”

  “Wow!”

  “Your sister had drawn up the official paperwork, having already contacted my accountants, and received their e-mailed approval. All I had to do was sign, which I did gratefully.”

  “Thank heaven!”

  “I was afraid you would never want to see me again, but Tish took me aside and told me how you had gone to bat for me Sunday night. I told her how very much I love you. She advised me to let you know this very night. What a lady!”

  “Yes, she is one amazing woman!”

  “She asked me to tell you that she'd not be calling you after all, whatever that means. I'm sorry. I forgot.”

  Elizabeth laughed. She too had forgotten she'd been expecting a call from Tish. “It's alright, my love.”

  “She gave me hope, so I had to know.”

  Taking her hand, he kissed it. “I do love you so. In fact when I opened my safe Saturday night, I wanted to offer you my hand and give you my mother's engagement ring, but I couldn't. When it came to the moment, I just could not, not before I squared myself with Sir William and the others. So, Elizabeth, I chose the next best thing that I could think of, the Elizabeth Barrett first edition.”

  “I'll take the first edition anytime, my darling,” she promised, pressing close to his body, her arms encircling his chest, “No need to wait for Derby Sunday now.”

  “Noted.”

  “Mmmm,” Elizabeth mumbled, snuggling into Darcy's side and hugging him gently.

  “And the engagement ring, my love. You can take your pick. There is my mom's emerald, my granny's sapphire and my other grandmother's diamond. Also my great-grandmother left an incredible ruby.”

  “You choose, Fitzwilliam,” whispered Elizabeth.

  “Elizabeth, then I choose the emerald, if you don't mind. I saw how my mother loved it.

  “Fitzwilliam.”

  “Yes, my darling.”

  “Let's not get engaged and plan a big wedding in the fall. Let's get married right away. I want to live with you now. I do not want to wait another day to be Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

  “Oh, Elizabeth.”

  “What is your full name, Fitzwilliam?”

  “Lindsay Fitzwilliam Darcy at your service, ma'am.”

  “Elegant name.”

  “My father wanted to name me for a famous violin maker. My father's maternal line was quite musically talented. My great grandfather was a concert violinist for a few years, therefore the Guarneri. But my mother stood strong for her father’s first and last names.”

  “A concert violinist? Incredible. Are you? Musical?”

  “As you know, I'm a tenor in the church choir, when I am home. But you may not know that I studied Voice as a secondary major while at Cambridge University.”

  “Do you like opera?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Oh, my princess, I adore opera. Why do you ask?”

  “Tish and Sir William are going to love you. Will you teach me this love of opera? We can accompany them to the world's great opera houses.”

  “My darling, I can think of little I'd like to do more than teach you to love opera. Well, maybe a few things.” He enfolded her in his arms.

  Later Elizabeth, admiring Darcy's broad shoulders and his slim hips as he crossed the room to stoke the fire, noticed Claire's pages strewn all over the floor, some evidently having been trampled on even.

  “Oh, well,” summed up her concern, figuring Darcy had accidentally flung them throughout the room when, after he carried her up the stairs and into the bedroom, he had stripped away the spread before laying her on the crisp white sheets.

  “Your name sounds British, dearest? My mother is from England . . . as is Sir William of course. Their friendship brought him here. You went to England to study at Cambridge, and my mom crossed the ocean the other direction to get a degree at Princeton,” Elizabeth explained.

  “How fortuitous that we two Britishers met in Kentucky. The Darcys came from England many generations ago, but my mother’s ancestors came to Kentucky from Derbyshire in the early 1900s to farm in horse country. As the son of a younger son of an earl, my great grandfather was looking for an estate of his own. He and my great grandmother found it in Twin Spirals. Then during World War II, my grandfather, Major Lindsay Fitzwilliam, returned to England as a fighter pilot for the RAF, long before America entered the war. He visited with the 6th Earl of Matlock, his second cousin, who introduced him to his sister, Mary; she became my Grandmother Molly. So my mother was British on both sides of her family tree. I chose to study at Cambridge so I could re-connect with my Matlock cousins.
Richard Fitzwilliam, my cousin, and I were at Cambridge together, as was our cousin Anne de Bourgh Richard and I grew so close that he decided to come to Harvard Law School to be near his Kentucky Fitzwilliam cousins. And just like déjà vu, he fell in love with my sister Georgiana; they are happily married and living in Danville. My great-grandparents and my grandparents would have been so proud.”

  “Lovely. I can’t wait to meet your family and friends.”

  “I feel the same way.”

  “Now that we know all about each other,” Elizabeth said with a grin, “what about our wedding?”

  “I thought that was settled. Tomorrow!” He looked at the clock, its hands reaching three. “Today!”

  “Can we, Fitzwilliam? Can we please just go to the Court House, get a license and marry?”

  “I'd like nothing better.”

  “Fitzwilliam, where shall we live?”

  “My first thought is here at Longbourn, if you agree. You have your school work and responsibilities of Bennet Farms Ltd. I have an excellent farm management team, as I am away so much. I can assist you with the management here, so you won't have to work such long hours. I can check in at Lancaster several days a week; it's only a forty-five minute drive.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “That does not mean I want to abandon my home in Lancaster. We can stay there often. Does that work?”

  “Oh, my darling, are you for real? Or have I died and gone straight to paradise?”

  “This is paradise for sure.”

  “We can have a more formal summer wedding at either of our houses. Something for our family and friends. I just don’t want to wait for it.” Then worried, Elizabeth reflected, “Unless I am rushing you.”

  “My dear, I want to marry you this very day,” Darcy insisted. “Shall we dress or could we get by with riding attire?” he kidded.

  “Riding gear by all means. Shall we saddle Gypsy and Asbestos and ride them over to Richmond to the court house?”

  “Great idea!”

  That decided, Darcy pulled the sheet up and turned on his side, closing his eyes. Elizabeth wriggled into his back. “I've been thinking. Since you mainly compete in New Jersey in the winter, I may just teach the fall semester. Then I can travel with you January through March.”

  “I don't have to keep driving the sulky, you know,” he stated, turning back to face her, his eyes wide open now.

  “Oh, yes, you do!” Elizabeth said.

  “Would they allow you to do that? I mainly race Friday, Saturday and some Sundays anyway. Could you schedule early week classes?”

  “I could load up on Tuesday/Thursday and do a seminar or two on Wednesday,” she said. “That would satisfy the university. You are not stopping, and you are not going without me. So we'll just see how much I matter to EKU.

  “You can build a rink for your practice in the field near stallion barn. Your horses can rotate over to the stallion barn. We only have two stallions housed there except during breeding season. That way you won't have to drive to Lancaster every day.”

  “Thank you! I do love harness racing, although it makes no money to speak of, after expenses. It's an avocation, Elizabeth.”

  “Who cares? It's your life's blood. I won’t have you give it up for me. That is not the marriage I want.”

  He hugged her to him with appreciation.

  “And also now that I have had time to consider, I have decided that when I set up my fall schedule, I will opt out of late Friday and all Saturday classes. That way we can spend every week-end at your home in Lancaster. How's that Monday through Thursday in Claysmount, Friday through Sunday in Lancaster?

  “I will come to school from Lancaster on Monday morning and then you can come over at your leisure. My head lad Charlie is already my assistant. He covers for me during the party time of April and early May and any vacations. I will just promote him to Co-Manager and move someone else up to Assistant Manager. He'll love it!”

  “Fabulous, my darling!”

  Elizabeth was quiet for a few minutes. Darcy imagined that she had fallen asleep.

  “Fitzwilliam,” she whispered. “do you want children? Oh, I know we’re a little past our prime, but I just wondered how you felt about children. It won't affect my love, if you say no,” she continued.

  Darcy answered, “A child or two would be an incredible addition to my suddenly perfect world.”

  A few minutes later he said, “If we don’t have our own baby in a year or two, Elizabeth, we could consider adoption. Many precious children need a loving home.”

  Elizabeth said, “Oh, Fitzwilliam, could we please?”

  Darcy, almost dozing off, was suddenly awakened by Elizabeth's enthused pronouncement, “I never thought I'd be following in my parent’s footsteps, but I am excited about our charity, Fitz. I will help you with it.” She said, “I'll get Mother to train me. She's the master.”

  “No training is necessary, Elizabeth, with a loving heart like yours.”

  Finally they managed to fall asleep about four, holding hands, only to be jarred awake at six by the alarm clock, Elizabeth had set the night before.

  Sitting up dazed, Darcy commented, “You sleep in a little while, Elizabeth. I'll take the barn duty today.”

  “In your Armani, I presume,” Elizabeth kidded, raising up and pointing to the elegant suit thrown carelessly across a chair.

  “Uh, oh, I'll get some clothes over here today.”

  “And I'll take some to Lancaster on Friday.”

  That decided they both bounded out of bed, stepping on the sheets of Claire's manuscript, which covered a great deal of the bedroom floor.

  Elizabeth planned to shower post barn, so she spent the time Darcy was showering, gathering up the scattered pages. She placed them in her bedroom desk. For days she had been promising herself and the invisible Claire to read two measly chapters. It wasn't a monumental undertaking, but Elizabeth had been too distracted by love to worry about Claire. She also had some vague premonition of personal disaster, whenever she even contemplated the chapters. She could not envision why, but it was there nonetheless, keeping her from tackling the task.

  “Anyway,” she admitted, “I had very little enthusiasm for the project before, but, now when I have Fitz to consider, I have none.

  “New resolution then,” she said. “Today I marry. Tomorrow I get it over with.”

  Darcy re-entered the bedroom, freshly showered, dressed in his suit, but a little bristly about the cheeks. “I'll need to bring a shaving kit over too I see,” he said, brushing his rough cheek against her soft skin.

  “Ouch!” Elizabeth exaggerated.

  “I've checked the web on your computer, all we need is thirty-eight dollars and our driver's licenses. I'll hire a justice of the peace for four, the approximate time I first set eyes on you eight days ago.”

  “You are the romantic!” Elizabeth jeered.

  “Actually I am,” he answered. “Be home so we can get downtown before the Court House closes. They keep banker's hours, you know.”

  “Don't worry! At ten after three, I'll be pulling in the drive.”

  “Then we will dine at my country club. I want to show you off. I'll bring the rings, when I return today from Lancaster.”

  “I'm off then. The equines call!”

  Elizabeth grabbed his arm, and they went down the stairs together.

  Ten after three on the dot, Elizabeth arrived home to find Darcy sipping champagne on the front porch. He poured her a glass. She enjoyed the bubbles tickling her nose. Clicking her glass, he toasted, “To Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam!”

  “To Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth!”

  Darcy was as handsome as she had ever seen him in a dark navy Armani, white shirt and a navy tie. A navy silk handkerchief was in his pocket and a white rose was in his lapel. Elizabeth flew up the steps and donned a light blue linen suit and cream blouse. She scouted around the closet and finally found matching pumps. Stopping at her dressing table, she fluffed her blond c
urls, applied some light blue eye shadow and fresh lipstick.

  She was satisfied as she looked at her image in the mirror. Elizabeth perceived that love had made her very beautiful today. She found Darcy once more waiting at the bottom of the stairs. He picked her left hand from the stair rail and placed a two carat square cut emerald on her ring finger. It could have been made for her, as it fit securely with only a slight nudge needed over the knuckle.

  “Oh, Fitz,” Elizabeth exclaimed. “It is exquisite!” She sashayed to the doorway, holding the bright green emerald in the sunlight, streaming through the door, and then returning it to her breast.

  “As I told you, my love, you can take your pick of diamond, sapphire and ruby too. This was Mom's favorite, but it may not be yours. I do remember from the other evening though that you seem to favor emeralds.”

  “Oh, my sweet, this wedding has happened so fast that I do not have a ring for you.”

  “No need, my dear, I brought my dad's. You can inscribe it for me when you have time.”

  Darcy had laid a bouquet of multi-color roses on the porch table. Before he presented it to Elizabeth, he extracted a clipper from his pocket, selected a pair of roses, a pink and a yellow, then engineered the two amidst Elizabeth's wild curls, pinning them there with a clip bejeweled with pearls and pink sapphires. As he handed her the bouquet, she noticed Lady Geraldine's Courtship protruding from his jacket pocket.

  “Shall we, my love?” Darcy asked.

  “Yes, let's,” Elizabeth said, leaning against his strong frame, clasping her fragrant bouquet and allowing herself to be escorted to the waiting Mercedes.

  An hour and a half later, Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy were man and wife, a new beginning with an age old twist—true love.

  Before the couple retired for the night, Elizabeth pressed three roses, white, pink and yellow, between the pages of her wedding gift the Elizabeth Barrett Browning poem, protected of course by parchment paper.