‘No, Aunt. There is nothing to be said there. You know as well as I, there has never been any formal arrangement between us. Perhaps you should speak to Anne about her wishes? She had no desire for it either.’
Something caught his eye in the hall. ‘Georgiana!’
His sister hurried to the library doorway, her eyes widening in surprise as she saw her aunt.
‘It seems Aunt Catherine has come to call. Will you be staying long, Aunt?’ She stared at him speechlessly. ‘No? Such a shame. I assume you will have some tea before you begin the journey back to Matlock?’
The lady’s mouth opened, closed and opened again, but no sound emerged.
‘Georgiana, would you be so good as ask for it to be sent along to the drawing room? Oh, and Georgie?’
His sister looked back over her shoulder. ‘Perhaps you could introduce the Miss Bingleys to your aunt. I am sure they would delight in making her acquaintance.’
Georgiana looked anxious. ‘Are you quite certain, Brother?’
He nodded, then turned his attention back to his aunt, who closed her mouth with a snap.
‘Do not expect me to recognise this match, Darcy.’
‘Fine. Then do not expect an invitation to the wedding.’
Almost quivering with indignation, Lady Catherine turned on her heel, and Darcy walked over to kick the door shut before turning to face Elizabeth, who looked anxious.
‘Do you think the twins will be alright?’
‘I have not the slightest concern for the girls. If ever there was a match for my aunt, it is they.’ Darcy took a step towards her. ‘Now, at the risk of repeating myself, where were we?’
‘You had been expressing how much you are looking forward to it being just us at Pemberley, sir.’ Elizabeth smiled as she took a step forward. ‘At least, that is what I think you were doing.’
‘It may be best if I start from the beginning.’
‘That is a very good place to start, Mr Darcy.’
One final step brought them together, and Darcy placed an arm about Elizabeth's waist to pull her closer, tipped her chin up with his other hand and bent to kiss her unhurriedly, all thought of unwelcome visitors soon far from their minds.
~o0o~
A month to the day after setting the date, a small gathering of people attended not one but two weddings at a private service in Kympton church, a concession to it being the Bennets’ parish. Joining Darcy and Elizabeth in making their vows were Colonel Fitzwilliam and Eleanor Latimer, a couple whose union may have been instigated in haste, but seemed destined for happiness all the same.
It was a beautiful autumnal day in October, and they walked down a path strewn with a carpet of golden leaves on the way to the church. The Reverend Wentworth was to perform the service, and the congregation, though small, intended to be in good voice for the opening hymn.
The attendees included all the Bennet family, and happy was Elizabeth to have her sisters present on such a special day. Georgiana looked on proudly as the two men who had stood as father, brother and friend to her prepared to pledge themselves to the ladies who held their hearts; she could not have been happier.
Bingley had, at Darcy’s invitation, remained at Pemberley after safely delivering Mary and Kitty Bennet to The Grange, not only to attend the weddings but also to make some further stay. He had put in motion the necessary steps to relinquish the lease on Netherfield Hall, finally severing all ties with Hertfordshire, and proposed to begin his search for his own estate directly.
The twins were unable to leave school, having arrived so recently, but they sent their love and Viola’s visual interpretation of how the wedding party would look. It was relatively accurate, though the artwork was kept concealed from Latimer. Whilst Viola had been prepared to forego animal representations for those she admired, he was once again depicted as an ass.
Looking around, Darcy was filled with contentment. Sunlight filtered through the stained-glass windows, casting a warm glow upon the gathering. The soft scent of late season flowers filled the air, the arrangements made by Lydia, who had taken it upon herself to learn the craft and now had responsibility for the church displays every Sunday.
Darcy smiled at Bingley, seated beside Jane Bennet, who looked as serene as always. Elizabeth never spoke of her sister’s feelings for his friend, but he had high hopes that one day they would find the same happiness as they had.
Latimer had handed his daughter over to Colonel Fitzwilliam before taking a seat, making certain to sit with Lord and Lady Matlock. Mrs Latimer had chosen to sit beside Georgiana, and was smiling happily as she held his sister’s hand.
His smile widened as his gaze fell upon Hero. Adorned with a pink ribbon, under the instructions of the twins, she sat by the door, looking healthy and replete and undisturbed for once by the two puppies who had survived the litter of three and who were too young and untrained to attend.
Turning back, Darcy’s heart swelled with happiness as he looked down at Elizabeth, standing beside him. How was it possible to love someone so much? She glanced up at him, sent him a soft smile, before returning her gaze to the front, and he squeezed the hand he held as the service began.
As he later emerged from the church into the dappled autumn sunlight, Elizabeth secured firmly at his side, his cousin and his new wife following in their wake, Darcy lifted his face to the sun’s weak rays and breathed in deeply.
But three months ago, he had returned to England on a quest, bent upon a mission to find and secure a wife. Who could have known how successful the outcome would be?
‘Is all well, Mr Darcy?’
He glanced down at Elizabeth. ‘More than well, Mrs Darcy.’
A soft blush of pink stole into her cheeks. ‘I shall have to become accustomed to being called so.’
He leaned down and whispered, ‘It is not the only thing you will become accustomed to as my wife, Elizabeth.’ The pink intensified as he placed a kiss upon her cheek, and her eyes sparkled as he turned her about so they could congratulate Colonel and Mrs Fitzwilliam and begin to receive the best wishes of their guests.
Epilogue
July 1817, Pemberley, Derbyshire
Fitzwilliam Darcy emerged from the orangery into the gardens, drawing in a contented breath as his eyes took in the manicured lawns, the neatly tended flowerbeds and the glistening of the sun’s rays on the ornamental ponds. Under Pickering’s steady guidance, the Pemberley gardeners had done their utmost to ensure the grounds were displayed at their very best on this special day.
A smile touched his mouth as he reflected on the service, held earlier in Pemberley’s own chapel, and the ensuing wedding breakfast. All had gone smoothly, and Darcy’s gaze roamed over the gathered company as they now spilled out onto the terrace.
His eye fell upon his cousin Fitzwilliam, talking animatedly to Viola Bingley, his youngest tucked against his chest, fast asleep, though how the baby managed to remain so with Richard’s barks of laughter, he knew not.
Walking across the terrace towards the lawn, Darcy stopped and looked back at his cousin, reflecting upon the changes in his life.
The colonel had returned to his duties after his marriage to Eleanor Latimer. The new Mrs Fitzwilliam, soon a firm favourite with Lord and Lady Matlock, had shared her time between being billeted with her husband in the south of England, where she could easily visit her mother, and her in-laws in the North.
Darcy smiled as his cousin moved his baby son from one arm to the other. Within a year of being wed, Eleanor had presented Fitzwilliam with their first-born and, finding himself enamoured of his new daughter and even more in love with his wife, he had given up his commission, taking up residence with his family in a small manor on the Matlock estate, where he had settled far more quickly into domestic bliss than he ever thought possible.
Darcy’s smile faded. He would miss Fitzwilliam and his family. Eleanor had recently come into her inheritance, and with Mrs Latimer moving into the dower house, it was time for his
cousin to take up residence on the family estate in Surrey.
‘Papa! Papa!’ A small hand tugged on Darcy’s coat, and he crouched down to look his son in the eye.
‘I was pleased to see you on your best behaviour during the service, young man; and with very little fidgeting!’
Thomas Richard Darcy chewed on his lip. ‘Mama says I do it because you did, Papa!’
Darcy laughed. ‘Yes, so I have heard her say.’
A dimple appeared in the little boy’s cheek. ‘Mama also says Emma and I can have ices. We must go to the nursery with our cousins.’
‘Then as you are the eldest, I suggest you lead the way.’ Darcy straightened up and took his son’s hand. ‘Come; let us find Nanny.’
‘I am here, sir.’
A young woman joined them, holding Darcy and Elizabeth’s daughter, Emma—just eighteen months old—in her arms.
Darcy lifted a chestnut curl from Emma’s cheek and tucked it behind her ear. ‘You look sleepy, my angel.’ He dropped a kiss upon the child’s head, and she raised a chubby hand to tap him on the nose.
‘Papa smile!’
‘Yes, Papa is smiling. Go with Nanny and your brother, and Mama and I will come and find you directly.’
He watched their nanny walk away, Emma nestled into her shoulder and Thomas walking proudly by her side, trying to match his small stride to her steps and skipping every now and again to keep up.
‘Fitz?’
Darcy smiled as his sister came to stand beside him. ‘You made a beautiful bride, Georgie.’
She blushed becomingly as she reached up to kiss his cheek. ‘Thank you. Frederick says we must depart soon, but I asked him if we could spend a little while longer with our guests.’
Darcy glanced along the terrace, the sound of conversation and laughter indicative of the company’s enjoyment of the morning.
‘Then go and join them, my dear.’
Georgiana smiled, then turned to hurry back to where her new husband stood talking to his parents, and Darcy’s heart swelled with pride and love for his sister. He would miss her, but his sadness was tempered by seeing her so happy.
Turning around, Darcy walked down the stone steps onto the lawn. He had despaired of Georgiana ever finding the happiness he shared with Elizabeth, for once she was out in society, she had shown little interest in finding an establishment of her own, content to remain at Pemberley and rarely venturing as far as Town.
Then, one day, on a solitary ride across the fields, Georgiana’s mount lost a shoe. She made her way onto the nearest lane in search of a blacksmith, only to encounter a young gentleman on horseback who swiftly came to her aid.
The nephew of Sir Charles and Lady Araminta, Frederick Burlington, heir to a large estate in Somersetshire, was making his first stay at Froggatt Park since childhood. Well educated and possessed of his uncle’s enjoyment of life and his aunt’s pleasing manners, he was a refreshing change from the arrogant and self-important young men who had sought after Miss Georgiana Darcy when first she came out.
Darcy smiled to himself as he walked slowly across the lawn. Wary initially, his sister had soon been won over by Frederick’s kindness and his sense of humour, and though Darcy had always imagined he would find it difficult to hand Georgiana’s care over to another, it was, when the time came, quite the contrary.
His gaze was drawn back to the guests now filling the terrace. Then, a burst of laughter drew his attention to Olivia Bingley and her younger sister. The twins had brought along Hero’s two puppies, now fully grown, and Julia, who would be attending the seminary in Harrogate from the autumn, was jumping from one step to another, the devoted hounds copying her every move.
Darcy’s eye fell upon their brother. Bingley stood slightly apart from the rest of the guests, a glass of wine in his hand which he raised towards Darcy when he realised he was watching him, before he turned to greet Elizabeth’s aunt and uncle, the Gardiners, as they came over to speak to him.
Turning to resume his walk, Darcy reflected upon his friend’s family. He and Elizabeth retained a great fondness for Olivia and Viola Bingley. They had emerged two years ago, relatively unscathed, from their finishing school in Harrogate, though their accomplishments were second to none and they displayed all the manners and grace befitting two young ladies now approaching their introduction into society.
Beyond this, however, they remained much the same, their zest for adventure untamed and their devotion to the Darcys complete. Content though they were, living with their brother on his estate, Bingley said they were never happier than when they came to visit at Pemberley.
Casting a contented glance over the assembled people, Darcy smiled again. He supposed he ought to join the throng, before his wife caught him out!
~o0o~
Elizabeth stepped out onto the terrace, delighted to see the happy faces in the garden as the company enjoyed the fine summer day.
‘Mama!’
Thomas came running into her arms and she lifted him easily, rubbing her nose against his before dropping a kiss on his head and setting him back on his feet.
‘Where is your Papa?’
Thomas put his hands on his small hips and tried to look stern. ‘He is doing what he does when people come, Mama.’
Biting back a laugh at his serious air and countenance, Elizabeth crouched down to meet his eye. ‘Then Mama must do something about it, must she not?’ She winked at him, and he chuckled.
The nanny joined them then, and Elizabeth took Emma from her with a smile, tilting her head to look at her daughter, who had nestled against her chest. ‘You seem ready for a nap, little one.’
Emma’s head popped up and she blinked. ‘No, Mama! Ice!’
Laughing, Elizabeth dropped a kiss upon her cheek. ‘Ah, I thought perchance you had forgotten the special treat Mrs Marchant has prepared.’
‘Papa said I must...’ Thomas frowned, as he did when thinking of the words he needed. ‘Lead the way!’
‘Then I will leave you with Nanny to do as Papa has bid.’
Elizabeth handed Emma back to Louisa Rivers, sister of their estate steward, with a further smile. ‘I think she ought to rest after her treat. She was up with the lark this morning and so excited at seeing all her cousins.’
Louisa nodded. ‘Of course, ma’am. Come, Master Thomas; let us gather up the others before these special ices melt!’
Thomas hurried across the terrace to where his Fitzwilliam cousins, Bella and Sophia, were stroking a patient Hero, and Elizabeth laughed. Hero had learned to tolerate company rather well, but though always welcome in the house, she often escaped in search of solitude, and could be found sleeping peacefully in the warm sunshine amidst the flowerbeds of the Pickerings’ cottage. No doubt she would later be taking refuge there from so many small hands!
‘Lizzy!’
Looking over her shoulder, Elizabeth smiled and walked over to join her sister, Jane, who was seated on a cushioned bench. In her arms, she held a small sleeping baby, and Elizabeth touched a gentle hand to his soft face before bending to kiss Jane’s cheek.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Exhausted but happy!’ Jane laughed. ‘Oh Lizzy, I feared for so long children would not come, and now we have two at once!’
‘Are they not adorable?’ Sarah Wentworth joined them, holding an identical baby boy. ‘Twins, dear Jane! Who would have thought it?’
Elizabeth laughed. ‘It seems to run in the family; there may be more yet!’
Jane looked quite horrified for a moment; then she smiled. ‘They are barely a month old; let me adjust to being a new mother before you speculate upon more children!’
Sarah laughed too. ‘I struggle enough with one.’ Then she leaned closer to her elder sisters. ‘Though Lucy will not be a solitary child for long.’ She rested a hand upon her midriff, and Jane’s smile widened as Elizabeth hugged her youngest sister.
‘I am so happy for you, Sarah, and for your husband.’
Sara
h turned about. ‘Where is he? I have not seen him since the service.’
‘Over there.’ Elizabeth pointed to where the Reverend Wentworth was in conversation with their father. ‘It was a lovely service, and so kind of him to travel all this way to perform it.’
‘Is he not a handsome man, Lizzy, my husband?’ Sarah sighed, then turned back to face her sisters. ‘I will own to having begged him to let us come. Happy as I am, I miss being with family. Shropshire is all very well, and the living is a substantial one, but I wish I could see more of you all.’ She glanced down at the sleeping baby in her arms. ‘And now the family is growing by the year!’
Elizabeth laughed again. ‘Yes, and sometimes in the most unexpected manner.’
‘Are you, perchance, speaking of your brother, Lizzy?’ Mr Bennet had come to stand beside her.
‘Indeed I was, Papa!’ She took his hand and squeezed it. ‘Where is your fine son?’
‘With his mother.’ He gestured over to the other side of the terrace, where Elizabeth could see Mrs Bennet, formerly Mrs Annesley. A small boy sat contentedly on her lap as she engaged in conversation with Lady Matlock.
‘Mrs Darcy; please can you come?’
Turning around, Elizabeth smiled at Mrs Reynolds. ‘Of course.’ She walked over to meet her in the doorway to the orangery.
‘I am sorry to intrude, but we want to ensure the arrangements for this afternoon are to your liking.’
Elizabeth made to follow the housekeeper inside, but then recalled her husband and looked back to see where he was. ‘I will join you directly, Mrs Reynolds.’
Then, she bit back on a laugh. Darcy was doing precisely what Thomas had implied: giving the general company a wide berth, and clearly in a world of his own. Elizabeth smiled before turning away. As soon as she had approved the arrangements in the dining room, she would join him.
~o0o~
‘Darce!’
Looking up, Darcy saw his cousin striding towards him, and he stopped walking.
‘What have you done with your young charge, Fitzwilliam? I thought you had care of him just now?’
A Quest for Mr Darcy Page 58
