by Nicky Roth
At this revelation Lydia snorted, Kitty giggled, Mary clicked her tongue disapprovingly and Mr. Collins along with Charlotte chuckled till the whole room erupted in laughter.
“Well, Wickham that is a serious threat indeed.” his friend remarked casually. “I would think twice about upsetting this gentleman.”
Darcy laughed bitterly at this: “He is unable to think twice as the part that does he thinking with is usually busy with something different altogether. Or how else would he have managed to gamble away the sum of four thousand pounds within only two years? But as it is, Mr. Bennet it seems we have to talk.”
With eyes wide, seeing she was about to lose not only her brother but also the man she had sat her cap on, Caroline tried to intervene. Help came from an unexpected quarter.
“Oh, Miss Bingley, I had not had the opportunity to thank you last night on your most wonderful arrangements. The ball was truly splendid. I dare say even my noble patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh...”
Turning around on her heel Caroline Bingley stormed off in indignation, almost stumbling over her petticoat as she climbed into her carriage, while Mr. Collins smirked triumphantly.
“I agree, Mr. Darcy. We have to speak, but despite some sense of urgency I would suggest we postpone our conversation till after dinner.” Mr. Bennet mused as he watched his soon to be son in law’s sister depart.
With his head held high and a smile on his lips, Fitzwilliam Darcy followed Mr. Bennet into his library as soon as the women had left them to their glass of Port. Most cordially he was offered a chair and even a cigar, the latter of which he declined.
“Now, what have you to say to Mr. Wickham’s accusations.”
“Only that I can prove his own conduct to be as flawed as I have indicated, if not worse. My own supposed conduct however in regards to last night, I cannot disprove I am afraid. Even though the accusations were incorrect as the only thing of truth in them is the fact that I have spend half an hour with your daughter Elizabeth inside an accidentally locked room.”
“You know you were seen?”
“We must have as it seems, though I can assure you that I made sure the coast was clear when we left the billiard room. I cannot perceive how anybody could know.”
“At dinner Mr. Denny, or whatever his name is, has tipped me off. The mirror in the hallway gives a clear view of the area in front of the room in question, without necessarily revealing the person watching.”
“But who?”
“On that point Mr. Denny was not sure, but he had it on good authority. I would imagine it was the one or other of the officers, though I would not even put it past my own two youngest daughters, I am sorry to say.”
“No, me neither.” Darcy muttered, before in mortification of having voiced what was supposed to stay inside his head, he closed his eyes. Would he never learn to keep his tongue in check? His behaviour in society was after all awkward enough as it was, with his almost painful shyness which he had to overcome each and every time he ventured out. Under normal circumstances of course he managed quite well, but Mr. Bennet as well as his daughter had this way about them which made him speak his mind.
“I appreciate your honesty, Mr. Darcy. So, answer me sincerely, would you have ever considered marrying my little Lizzy if it were not necessary to save her reputation?”
“Yes. Yes, I would have. And have done so. I love your daughter with all my heart. I have struggled for weeks to fight my growing affection for her, but it was in vain. I have to admit though, had it not been for this most awkward situation I would not have known how I could have nor how I would have managed to declare myself. I am a tongue tied fellow at the most inconvenient of times, I fear.”
Leaning back in his armchair Mr. Bennet thoughtfully gazed at the man before him. A man he had always perceived as being arrogant and haughty and who now sat before him almost like a little boy, admitting he was shy and not all that assured of the peoples respect and regard for him, as would be befitting a man of his station. On top of this Mr. Darcy was well able to cast convention to the side when he had to, like he had shown tonight. He had proven to be loyal to his friend and honourable towards Wickham, only revealing the man’s faults when challenged. No wonder Elizabeth loved him this much, he had seen her affection earlier in the day when she had defended him against each and every one. It was just that as yet she herself was probably unaware of her feelings. Or was she? She had appeared most happy, proud even, when she had left the dining room, knowing what would happen.
“So, what can you offer her?” Mr. Bennet at last asked.
“Well, there is of course my estate in Derbyshire...”
“That is not what I mean, Mr. Darcy. What can you offer her as a husband? My wife is the one you can impress with your riches, though I would advise you against it unless you fancy a sudden loss of hearing.”
Smiling wryly Darcy answered: “I could offer Elizabeth an equal share of everything I own, and most importantly all of my heart. If God will have it the pitter-patter of many little feet and children’s carefree laughter. Then many an animated discussion, books, long walks and…- Love, simply love and respect.”
“Have you any particular date in mind? Given the situation I am almost tempted to suggest a triple wedding, but a double would do.”
“But I have not even asked her if she wants me. What if she says n...”
His eyes widened in surprise as a dainty hand was placed on his lips to keep him from finishing his sentence.
“I will not say no, Mr. Darcy, not because of the scandal it might cause, but because I have taken my cousins advice to heart, namely to follow my heart and it has led me to you.”
Epilogue
Eight months later:
It had been a very hot day in the middle of harvest, the air hot and humid. Tired Elizabeth Darcy lounged on the sofa in the library at Pemberley, the curtains half drawn but the high and airy windows open in an attempt to let in a light breeze. The novel she was reading did not capture her, yet the insistent squirming inside her stomach kept her from dozing off. It was as if the little creature growing there was quite determined to be most active when she was in dire need of rest, as for when she took her walks, nowadays mainly through the shrubbery and back as her ankles had swollen off late, it hardly ever moved at all.
With a smile on her lips, one hand caressing her increased midsection, she remembered the book with which it all had begun and wondered where her husband might keep it. Now this would be more interesting reading material, Elizabeth thought to herself. Sitting up with some difficulty and heaving herself off the incredibly comfortable piece of furniture, she went in search of it. It was not in the library, she had established that already, and also not in her or her husband’s bed chamber. Her smile increased as an idea of its whereabouts crossed her mind. She made her way to the billiard room, a room not dissimilar to the one at Netherfield, and sure enough, there on the side table in front of the empty grate it was. Oh what a sentimental sod Mr. Darcy could be at times. And how much she loved him for it!
Sitting back down in one of the window seats, once again the young Mrs. Darcy flipped through the pages of a book of whose topic she was now so very familiar with. A topic whose theoretical advice had, soon after the conversion to its practical use on their wedding night and many nights thereafter, quickly led to her present state.
As if he had sensed her innermost thoughts about and her growing desire for him, Fitzwilliam Darcy entered the room, having found her nowhere else. In his informal clothing and the dusty riding boots he looked nothing like the haughty and arrogant man she had once thought him to be. In the morning his steward had voiced his concerns about a storm brewing and the master of Pemberley, without hesitation had hastened to help in the physical labour, lest the crops would be destroyed. When all hands were needed this, Elizabeth had found to her astonishment, included the hands of Mr. Darcy.
His arrival however meant they had managed to bring everything in and just in t
ime it was, as a distant rumble proved the steward to be right.
“You know Fitzwilliam, you have never told me why you had such a book lying about in the first place.” she held up the magnificent tome which bore no title.
“Does it matter now?” her husband smiled, proudly glancing over his beloved wife till his eyes met hers.
“I am just curious, so please indulge me.”
Pouring himself a glass of water from a decanter on a side board he crossed the room and settled next to her, his arm snaking about her back and pulling her close.
“Oh well, then I have to make a confession or two, I suppose. How do you feel today, my dearest Elizabeth?”
“Do not attempt to change the subject.”
“I did not intent to, but it all began with – you.”
“Me?”
“Yes. Before I knew it, you had stolen my heart and my mind was so full of you that I committed the indiscretion of writing extensively about you to my cousin. - Which would be my first confession.”
“Colonel Fitzwilliam you mean, I presume?”
“No, my Cousin Anne.”
Elizabeth’s mouth fell open in astonishment. Glancing up she saw the sparkle in his eyes and the twitch of his mouth as he suppressed a smirk, and realised he was teasing her.
“Of course Colonel Fitzwilliam, my dear.” he laughed at last, pecking her on the tip of her nose.
“And so, on the very morning of the ball I received a parcel containing this book and a note. I had unwrapped it and looked through it, realising what it was, and then Bingley asked me something and I put it down to retrieve later and forgot all about it till I saw you holding it in your hands.”
“And why would the Colonel feel compelled to send you such a manual?”
The embarrassed blush spreading across Darcy’s face was most becoming.
“Because on our wedding night I was just as innocent in regards to these things as you were.”
“And this is you second confession?”
He nodded, caressing her back.
“Oh!” Elizabeth suddenly cried out, her hand reaching for her middle as a particular insistent kick hit her in the side. It was joined momentarily by her husband’s claiming his share of the experience.
Leaning in to her a little more closely, he whispered into her ear: “What would you say, my dear, if we ventured upstairs and rock our little one to sleep?”
The End
The Author
Writer Nicky Roth has written variations on Pride and Prejudice as well Sherlock Holmes pastiche. Her love for history has led her to greatly appreciate the works of Jane Austen, though her life long passion have been the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Inspiration she finds in her family and the countryside, living in a small village in Germany.
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[1]Jane Austen in Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 18.
[2] “Taking a flyer” meant intercourse without undressing and/or going to bed. Which of course in a setting like a billiard room would have been probably exactly what would have happened if it they had gone that far. (Apparently flyers in this instance is referring to shoes.) - The Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue (1811).
[3]To engage in „amorous congress“ was a fairly polite way of saying that two people were having sex, even though it is pretty obvious as to what it means, is it not? - The Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue (1811).
[4] “Face-making” is fairly self-explanatory, though it also refers to what can happen during such an act – namely making babies (and thus creating their little faces…) - The Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue (1811).
