by Jennifer Joy
The soft grass led them to a wider dirt path which they followed to the front door at Longbourn.
Elizabeth left William in the sitting room while she entered Father’s study. She would get Father accustomed to the idea of her marriage gently, easing the way for William. Hopefully, it would allay some of his nerves. He had begun pacing from the moment he had walked into the sitting room.
It was a simple request, but it was the hardest thing Darcy had ever had to ask for. Putting himself in the position of a father who cared enough about his daughters’ future to allow them the luxury of choosing their own husbands instead of forcing them into loveless marriages, Darcy’s words seemed inadequate as he practiced aloud. How would he feel when a young man stood before him to ask for Georgiana’s hand? Darcy’s heart stuck in his throat. What if he and Elizabeth should be blessed with a daughter? He would have to carry a horsewhip— or something bigger and more intimidating… A sword? A hunting rifle? Elizabeth opened the door and interrupted his line of thought before he could settle on a cannon.
Fortunately for Darcy, Mr. Bennet was in a happy mood and not nearly so cross as Darcy would have been in the same situation.
Standing behind his desk, surrounded by books and potted plants in various stages of growth, he merely said, “You can have my blessing, and I will welcome you to our family with open arms if you can answer one question honestly.”
Understanding Mr. Bennet to be a philosophical man, Darcy expected a riddle or something an unstudied man would find difficult.
“I will answer anything you ask.”
“Do you love Lizzy?”
Darcy had not expected that question. It was too easy.
“Yes, I love her with all my heart.”
Mr. Bennet slid his spectacles down his nose and peered over the top of the rims. “That is a big claim, and I should like to know how you know the extent of your devotion to my daughter so confidently. How do you know your love will last?”
That was a more difficult question, but one Darcy had asked himself many times since meeting Elizabeth. “I believe in the kind of love that grows over time, the kind of love that becomes so profound between a man and a woman that it becomes impossible to separate one from the other. Elizabeth has, in the relatively short time we have known each other, managed to change me in ways I never thought possible. She is my complement. Where I am weak, she is strong— and I will work diligently to improve myself to keep her happy because she is worthy of one better than I am.”
Mr. Bennet closed his eyes and sat in his chair, resting his head against it. His eyes were watery when he opened them. “I want nothing more than that for my girl. If you do as you say, and I believe you will, then you may marry her with my full blessing. It is not much, but I give it to you.”
And that was enough for Darcy. He wanted nothing more.
They married in the Longbourn parish beside Bingley and Jane as soon as the banns were read and proper arrangements could be made. A good-sized crowd consisting of the Bennets’ family and friends from Meryton attended. So happy was Bingley with his new bride, he had arranged for a wedding breakfast to be held at Netherfield Park after the service. As joyous as Bingley was, Darcy felt that he truly was the luckiest man in the world.
Elizabeth was radiant in her new blue dress and bonnet. So distracted was he by the sparkle in her eyes, Darcy had to ask the rector to repeat the vows he had only just read. Darcy heard chuckles from the pews, but he did not care. Let them have their fun at his expense. Nothing could dampen the delight he felt that blessed day.
His family was complete again, and the wounds he had carried since his father’s death could finally heal. Next to him stood a beautiful woman he could trust without hesitation, an adventurous, intrepid woman who would stand next to him through all of life’s trials. They would fight. They would love. But, most of all, they would live.
The rector finished his speech, announcing the two couples as man and wife to the people gathered before them.
Darcy watched Elizabeth’s face light up like a glowing chandelier, and the urge to hold her in his arms was overwhelming. For the first time since Darcy could remember, he acted on impulse. Gathering Elizabeth into his arms, he pressed his lips against hers. The small crowd faded away and for a few glorious moments, they were alone. The only noise was the pounding in his chest; the only sight was a picture in his mind of Elizabeth succumbing to his gentle touch.
How unfortunate he ran out of breath. The pause was long enough to remind him where they stood. It was also long enough for the greasy-haired rector of his Aunt Catherine and Elizabeth’s distant cousin, Mr. Collins, to make his way to the front of the parish where they still stood.
“Mr. Darcy, on behalf of my exalted patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, I feel it is my duty to chastise you for your complete disregard for decency. I beg you to act with more discretion lest you bring shame upon my relatives and my beloved patroness.”
Darcy considered him before reaching out to hold his wife’s hand. Holding it up to his mouth, he ran his lips over her fingers and kissed her palm.
“Mr. Darcy, such indiscretion!”
Moving past the disapproving man to join the others on their way to Netherfield Park with his wife’s hand firmly tucked in his arm, Darcy said, “Discretion be hanged.”
Epilogue
Pemberley, One year later
Darcy heard his bedchamber door open and something drag itself across the carpet.
He cracked his eyelids open. Daylight lit up the edges of the closed curtains. Another glorious night of rest, and he could think of no better way to wake up.
Giles would be standing in the doorway, discreetly keeping his distance, knowing that Mrs. Darcy was in the room. Since baby Thomas had learned to crawl, this had been Giles’ preferred method of getting his master out of bed. When Darcy had asked him about it, Giles had shrugged and said, “In the words of your father, ‘It is better than poking you with a stick,’ sir.”
Elizabeth untangled her legs from Darcy and rose to put on a robe. “Thank you, Giles. You may come in.”
Darcy knelt down on the soft carpet, encouraging his son.
Walking around the crawling baby, Giles opened the curtains to let the sunshine in.
Darcy crawled forward and scooped up the tiny boy, who had advanced partway across the large rug. He loved to wake in the early morning and disturb his parents’ restful slumber, not that Darcy minded too much.
Plopping a kiss on Thomas’ chubby cheek, he cradled his son in his arms and spun in the center of the room until Thomas giggled, showing the dimples in his cheeks. “Good morning, my precious one. I trust you slept well.”
Babble and squeals confirmed that indeed he had slept well. Nurse, the sweet woman Mother also called Mrs. Pratt, had changed him into clean clothes, and Giles had flirted with her while stacking blocks which he had promptly knocked over. Giles liked the new nurse very much, and she seemed to like him back. All of this Darcy interpreted from the gibberish of his son.
“How is Mrs. Pratt this morning, Giles?” Mrs. Pratt had lost her husband during his service in the army five years before. She had eagerly taken the position as the caretaker of Master Darcy figuring that if she had not been blessed with children of her own, she would be happy caring for others’.
Having drawn open the last curtain, Giles limped over to pinch Thomas’ cheek.
“You tattletale, Master Darcy.” Looking up at Darcy with a sheepish grin, Giles said, “She is mighty fine, sir.”
“I am glad for you, Giles.”
Giles turned away, but not before Darcy saw him blush.
Seeing his mother, little Thomas reached his arms out toward her and sucked his tongue.
“Someone is hungry. I will take him into the nursery.” Elizabeth took little Thomas from Darcy, humming a melody as they left the room.
Darcy followed them with his eyes and hastened to change his clothes so that he might join them.
Georgiana was in
the nursery with Elizabeth and Thomas. After living with her happily married brother and Elizabeth, she had decided to postpone her coming out another year, so that she might strengthen her character and learn more about herself. She loved being an aunt. Darcy had offered for Georgiana to take up residence in London, but nothing would convince her to part with her nephew. The feeling was mutual. Thomas looked at her through his large, blue eyes with adoration.
“William,” Georgiana said, “when can we go to Hertfordshire?”
The excited spark in Elizabeth’s eyes at the mention of her home was enough for him to decide. “Name the day and we will go.”
“I would love to see Jane and her little girl. I hope she takes after her and not her aunt Caroline,” Georgiana said with a wicked grin.
“You must admit that, while still prickly around the edges, Miss Bingley is much more agreeable. She is kinder to Jane, so we ought to make an effort to receive her kindly as well. It would make Jane happy,” said Elizabeth. “Speaking of being more agreeable, my mother makes an excellent grandmother, I think. She has calmed down since our marriage, do you not agree?”
Darcy did agree. “I will not mind being in her company all winter if you wish it. Besides, she is nothing compared to my aunt Catherine. I still cannot believe she refused to speak with you when we dined at Rosings.”
Darcy knew Elizabeth remembered that visit all too well. It had provided her a certain comfort to know that not everybody in his family displayed perfect manners. She was in no hurry to see that particular lady anytime soon. Neither was he.
“She must have been so different from your mother. When you speak of Lady Anne, I imagine the height of elegance and grace. I imagine your father was a lively, gregarious man. It must have been lovely being raised by such balanced parents.”
“It was.” Darcy thought back to his childhood without pain. Only happy memories played through his mind. He had shared many of these memories with Elizabeth over their year of marriage.
He sat down next to her on the floor where Thomas was playing with his tiny feet, trying to shove his toes into his mouth.
His wife was beautiful. Her wavy hair cascaded down her back and in front of her shoulder. He twirled a section of it around his finger.
“How would you like to go on a tour of the continent once things settle down? Napoleon has to tire at some point,” he asked.
“I would love to travel. I have always longed for adventure. I admit to being envious when Mr. Digby boarded a ship for the New World.”
“Who knows? Maybe we shall go there as well. We could buy some land and set up an estate for our children, should they be as intrepid as their mother.”
Her lips crinkled up. “I am good for you, William, and you had best not forget it. Before me, you never would have thought of such a scheme. You would feel the risk outweighed the benefit and would forbid it.”
“My modest wife.” He tugged on the tendril of hair he held. “It is true. It is a struggle sometimes, but life is meant to be lived.”
“And lived well, at that. After all, you never know what tomorrow may bring.”
Darcy kissed Elizabeth on her temple, breathing in her lavender scent. “I know what it will bring. Something wonderful.”
The weight on his shoulders had lessened with his new outlook on life. Yes, bad things could happen at any moment. One did the best one could to prevent them, but life’s joys and sorrows were intensified and appeased by allowing oneself to be vulnerable with those you loved and trusted. Darcy had learned a thing or two over the past year, and a whole new world opened up to him as he saw it through Elizabeth and Thomas’ eyes.
Thank you!
Thank you for reading Earning Darcy’s Trust. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I loved writing it. Please click here to leave a review — I read all of them!
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About the Author
When Jennifer isn’t busy dreaming up new adventures for her favorite Austen characters, she is teaching English, reading, perfecting her doughnut recipe, or taking her kids to the park.
Her wish is to continue to write sweet romances with happy endings for years to come.
She currently lives in Ecuador with her husband and twins. All of them are fluent in Spanglish.
Right now, Jennifer is imagining a new way to bring our beloved Darcy and Lizzy together so that they can enjoy another Happily-Ever-After.
Other Books by Jennifer Joy
Historical Romance
Darcy’s Ultimatum: The Cousins Series, Book 1
Anne’s Adversity: The Cousins Series, Book 2
The Colonel’s Challenge: The Cousins Series, Book 3
Accusing Elizabeth
Love Never Fails
Win, Lose, or Darcy
The Honorable Mr. Darcy: A Meryton Mystery, Book 1
The Indomitable Miss Elizabeth: A Meryton Mystery, Book 2
The Inseparable Mr. and Mrs. Darcy: A Meryton Mystery, Book 3
Cozy Mysteries
Cabs, Cakes, and Corpses: Murder on the Equator, Book 1
Rum Raisin Revenge: Murder on the Equator, Book 2
Cold Case Crumble: Murder on the Equator, Book 3
Sweet Contemporary Romances
Written in the Stars: Starlight Terrace Proposals #1
Bonus Material
Darcy’s Ultimatum
Rosings, Early March 1812
Fitzwilliam Darcy shook his head. Clearly, he had not heard his cousin correctly.
“I will not marry you, William,” repeated Anne de Bourgh in a much firmer voice.
Darcy clenched his fists at his sides and felt his color rise as the full meaning of her words hit him. How could she possibly not want me? How could she go against the wishes of our mothers?
Their marriage had been arranged since infancy, mutually agreed upon by his mother and Anne’s mother, his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. It would make the Darcys amongst the largest land-owners in all of England, as well as the richest. Now, at age eight and twenty, he felt he was ready to continue his legacy. Only Darcy’s bride-to-be did not want him, and her unexpected refusal came as a shock.
“What about your security, Anne? If you will not have me, what do you intend to do?” Aunt Catherine had ensured that Anne’s only purpose in life was to marry. She had no accomplishments to speak of.
Anne’s eyes narrowed, measuring him. “I wonder why you would marry me when Mother has given you every indication that I would be a pitiful wife. The only accomplishment I have is the ability to catch every illness that passes through Kent.”
It was the same argument Darcy had heard multiple times from his cousin, Richard, and even his own father, who grew impatient for a Darcy heir to be born at Pemberley. Darcy did not want to hear it from Anne. He crossed his arms.
In a voice scarcely above a whisper, Anne asked, “What confidence do you have that I am capable of giving you an heir? Pardon me, Cousin, for speaking of such a delicate subject, but you know it to be true. I would only disappoint you.” Her lip quivered and her voice shook.
Darcy could not stay offended, try as he might. The blow to his pride would be great as the news spread through the family. His father, who had never understood why Darcy insisted on honoring the agreement made between his mother and Aunt Catherine so many years ago, would not make matters easy for Darcy.
Relaxing his stance, Darcy asked, “You are determined, Anne? Is there nothing that would make you change your mind?”
“I am determined, Darcy. I thank you for your concern for my welfare, and I hope you fall in love with a good lady who will deserve your loya
lty more than I can.” Anne stood a little taller as she spoke, and Darcy only hoped that Aunt Catherine would not make mincemeat out of her daughter for daring to go against her wishes.
Darcy’s injured pride mixed with pity and admiration for Anne. Finally, after a lifetime of weak-willed behavior, his cousin had grown a backbone. Unfortunately, her timing had pulled the rug out from under Darcy’s feet. Father would have preferred him to marry younger, but Darcy had always used Anne as his excuse to delay in marriage. He was comfortable with Anne. He was not comfortable meeting new people.
The silence in the room reminded Darcy that his audience with Anne needed to come to an end. He had requested a private interview with her, as expected of a man asking a woman to marry him. But, now that the engagement was off, he felt uncomfortable standing in the middle of the elegant sitting room in his aunt’s house at Rosings. The sun poured through the windows, reflecting the beginning of spring. But, Darcy knew that a storm was brewing between Anne and his aunt. His presence would only complicate matters and make Anne’s case, whatever it was, more difficult. It was time to depart.
Giving a stiff bow, Darcy dismissed himself and started toward the door. Anne turned to look out the window, alone with her thoughts.
Darcy reached his hand out to open the door when in walked Aunt Catherine. He did not wish to witness a family dispute, but she would have to know sooner or later.
Forcing one of her pinched smiles, Aunt Catherine said, “Are you leaving so soon, Darcy? I had thought to find you making arrangements with Anne.” Her assumption stung, but Darcy squared his shoulders. Aunt Catherine looked past Darcy to her daughter and back to him, her frown deepening.
Unnoticed, another figure entered the room behind Aunt Catherine: a plain-looking young man, slightly older than Darcy. He was dressed in his red Army coat. He extended his hand out to Darcy as soon as he entered, patting him on the back too vigorously.
